


A Body Roll Or Two

by TheAmazingWadey



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Bachata, Cute feelings, F/F, F/M, Love Confessions, M/M, Miraculous Ladybug Love Square, So much angst, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, latin dance au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-02 14:06:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 54
Words: 200,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8670517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAmazingWadey/pseuds/TheAmazingWadey
Summary: Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!





	1. Before The Stage Lights Come On

_What was she doing here?_

She couldn’t understand her decision for doing this. She should never have come here. What was Alya thinking?! What was going through that crazed mind of hers when she _‘persuaded’_ her to take this audition? Persuaded, was putting it mildly the more Marinette thought about it. Her best friend never did anything in halves. Alya went all the way. She had downright threatened her to go to the auditions with the promise of blackmail. Hell or high water, regardless on how Marinette felt, Alya had insisted that she try out for the couple’s teams or at the very least the woman’s shines team.

Marinette had only ever wanted to take dancing casually. She had stumbled onto the Latin Culture and Dance Society at her university, after a surprisingly interesting “History of European Fashion” lecture. She had been walking down the hallway when she heard music, something unfamiliar, with a steady beat. She heard bongo drums, a soft rhythmic guitar and something else she couldn’t quite make out. She was uncertain of the instruments used, the music was strange but the soft undertone reminded her of a heartbeat, accompanying the gentle melody, which floated and joined with its accompaniment. Following the unfamiliar music with its Spanish lyrics she had discovered them.

They weren’t dancing Salsa. She recognised that dance; her parents had taken lessons once and they had practiced together in their small apartment. Salsa was faster, lively and with more spins. But this dance looked much different. The music was different. The footwork was different. They swayed side-to-side most times rather than backwards and forwards. The couples that danced together, kept close, swaying with the beat, their hips rolling together as they twisted their bodies in perfect harmony, moving into an intricate holds and positions. Occasional kicks and taps of their feet, a step behind or a slide, added flare to their steps. Accompanied by the music, the dance was exotic and incredibly sensual. Intimate to the point she found herself blushing, her mouth falling open slightly. But she couldn’t look away. She had never seen anything like it. As provocative and incredibly alluring as it was, there was a heady air of romance laced within each step she saw. It was like dirty-dancing but far more beautiful ... far more tender.

She hadn’t realised the music had stopped and the couples that were dancing saw that they had a new audience member. Marinette realised her predicament and was about to make a dash for it. But the students welcomed her, encouraging her to watch. And to learn. She was invited to come back the day after next. And Marinette found she couldn’t stay away. Something inside her encouraged her to learn. She didn’t truly understand why she wanted to learn. There really wasn’t any point. But she did. Not for the sake of wanting to feel sexy, or to look as beautiful as the other dancers had. At least not intentionally at first. To be honest, it looked like fun. The students who danced were warm and welcoming. They were patient with her klutziness. Lesson after lesson she was drawn back to the same room with the beautifully sensual music and the erotic and tender dancing. Weeks of dancing soon became months. Months turned into a year. And by her third year of university – she had become an advanced member.

She insisted it was just a hobby, an outlet to help her relax and let loose for a while. It wasn’t about the talent. Granted she had to admit she had gotten fairly good at her favourite dance styles but that didn’t mean she had an interest in pursuing it as a profession. She purely did it for her enjoyment, as well as the exercise. Her parents encouraged her to keep learning. She went out more often, making more friends beyond the few she had in her classes, as opposed to staying home and working on her designs. Marinette had always been exceptionally studious and a high-achiever. But she took the effort of going out social dancing with her friends, who taught her other dance styles, like salsa and kizomba. She kept up with those too, quickly learning. But Bachata was her favourite. There was something about it, something so personal, so deep, trusting and beautiful that she loved about it that she couldn’t stop wanting to learn. And to be honest, she had never imagined she of all people to learn such an intimate dance; the way her partners held her in a dip, the times a hand reached down to pull her thigh up around a waist.

Marinette hadn’t been successful in the dating department. No boys came her way. And those that she danced with were merely good friends, or swung the other way. Furthermore, her long school crush had never truly vanished. She still had posters of him on her walls, upgrading to later shoots, ones showing a boy’s face maturing to one of a man that never lost his handsomeness. But Marinette had always been practical. After graduation Adrien had moved to America. She had heard Adrien had done so with reluctance. She hadn’t heard much from him since then. And without contact it seemed a waste to pine over something she never ever attempted of having. Thus it was nice to pretend whenever she danced. If only for a moment – for two to three minutes of a song, someone would hold her and move her body in a way that she could put her complete trust in.

Yet her enjoyment had backfired when Alya had found out about her lessons, by accident too, when she walked into the wrong classroom. Alya couldn’t believe her best friend – the klutz, the most awkward girl she had ever known could move her body with such confidence that each move seemed as if she was merely breathing. Alya had insisted that she audition for a dance team at one of the dance schools, close to where she lived. Even her dance classmates had suggested she try for a team. But Marinette had staunchly refused. She had the confidence to social dance. But performing in front of a live audience was another thing. She had used the excuse of her university coursework, and balancing a part time job at café as her excuse. More than that – she still had her responsibility as Ladybug. Hawkmoth’s absence had left her concerned. It was her responsibility to ensure her home was kept safe, particularly when Chat Noir had left to continue his own studies elsewhere. This was her life. She only wanted to dance because she loved doing it. Not because she wanted to show the world that she could. But she could only fend of Alya’s persistence for so long.

So here she was, waiting anxiously in the reception of Latina á Paris.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng?” a woman from the door to the dance studio called her name. Her hair was tied up in a tight bun suitable for keeping unnecessary strands from her eyes. She had a friendly face.

“Y-yes. That’s me.” She stood up, clutching at her dance shoes, as if they were her only lifelines. The butterflies in her stomach made her legs feel funny. How could she dance if her legs refused to feel like working?

“Thank you. You’re auditioning for the Bachata teams, right?”

“I am.”

“I’m afraid to tell you we’re no longer holding auditions for the Ladies Shines.” The woman said sadly.

Marinette didn’t know if she felt disappointed or pleased. She had practiced constantly for this moment but then again the relief of knowing she would have to perform in front of people made her exhale, tension leaving her shoulders.

“However – we are lacking Couple Teams. And from what’s been said to us by your fellow dancers at your university, and your friend Alya, you are very good at partner dancing. We would like you to audition for that, if you’re interested.”

Marinette felt her heart plummet in her chest, bluebell eyes wide. Her shoe bag fell to the floor with an odd clunk sound.

“Wh-what?! No! I can’t!” She protested, “I haven’t prepared anything! I haven’t practiced for that!”

The receptionist gave a slight smile. “It’s alright. We understand if you’re not interested and we’re aware you haven’t practiced for couples. The instructors are prepared to give you leeway for improvisation. And if you have the ability to dance well socially, without preparation, this only improves your chance of performing professionally with us. You’re already prepared for the unexpected. This is a good opportunity to show us what you’re truly capable of. What do you say?”

Marinette was at a loss for words. She couldn’t say anything. She had completely lost her voice. She couldn’t say no. What was worse, she hadn’t even realised she had nodded in approval.

The lady before her, smiled. “All right. I’ll let them know you’ve agreed to audition. One of the judges has agreed to dance with you for the performance. I’ll see you inside in five minutes.”

The lady left leaving Marinette alone, heat flushing to her face as she slowly began to realise the predicament she was in. What had she done?!


	2. The Audition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

Marinette had put on her favourite red and black shoes. They were her most comfortable ones, a gift from her parents during her second year of university, explaining that they would bring her luck whenever she performed. She had bought other pairs with her allowance and savings. She had two more pairs at home, another black pair and light bronze. But the ones she wore were her ‘lucky’ shoes, and the most comfortable. And Marinette needed as much luck as she could get at that very moment.

Hesitantly she peeked through the door and her stomach churned, heart hammering sporadically in her chest. She was going to have an audience and by the looks of it, a large one. The room was huge, full of mirrors and walls painted with iconic French and Spanish landmarks and aesthetics, fusing both countries together. There were other dancers inside as well as the judges. All of them looked beautiful. All of them looked professional and so much more talented then she was. Dressed in their finest costumes, a mixture of sequins, stretched velvet and shiny Lycra in an assortment of colours, Marinette wanted to kick herself. She hadn’t known she was supposed to wear something. She didn’t own anything like that. Instead, she had simply worn her favourite black stocking-leggings. They were tight, hugging her calves and thighs, thus showed movement well. She also wore a simple white crop top, whilst her hair had been pulled back in a small ponytail that brushed just past her shoulders. She looked absolutely ridiculous. What was she going to do?

All of them were waiting for her, the wooden panelled floor bathed in a golden spotlight. And she was seriously, going to be sick.

One of the judges spotted her, his eyes meeting her own. A man in his late thirties, handsome with bronze coloured skin, kind brown eyes that glowed in the lights, he walked over to her.

 _Crap!_ She couldn’t hide anymore.

“Bonjour! You must be Marinette. I’m Julio. And unfortunately for you – you will have to dance with me today.” He held out his hand, flashing her a friendly smile.

The warmth and sincerity in his voice strangely calmed her. “Uh … no – uh. Thank you is what I meant to say, for giving me the opportunity.” She said shyly.

She took his hand as he led her to the centre of the centre of the dance floor. The other judges took their seats, whilst the other dancers watched from against the wall, all of them curious.

The butterflies returned and she stumbled as she walked.

“Nervous?” her partner asked.

“Yes.” She said quietly. She was terrified.

“Don’t worry – this audition is unorthodox to the previous ones so you don’t have to worry about proving anything to us. Think of this as social dancing. We’re just interested in seeing how you can dance with a partner.”

Marinette nodded. “Uh … okay – how advanced are you looking for.”

“That depends on what you can do. We’re looking for Intermediate 1 and 2 couples and Advanced.”

When they finally made it to the centre of the floor, that’s when the world around her began to spin. _Oh god._ People were watching her. How could she perform? She felt like she was going to be sick, her stomach twisting uncontrollably from the nerves.

“Hey – relax. You’ll be fine. You’re dancing with me.” He grinned, his eyes kind. He gently placed a hand on her waist, whilst bringing one of her own to his shoulder. When he offered his remaining hand, she took it, certain she could feel just how nervous she was. The raised goose bumps on her skin and her shaking were clues enough.

“Y-yeah. Relax.” She stammered.

“Ready?”

“I hope so.”

That was enough for him to acknowledge the sound technician to start the music.

The music was steady, neither to fast or slow, the beat soothing her nerves. She didn’t recognise the song. But like all of the ones she had danced to familiar or not, it was beautiful. She gave a shaky exhale. She felt Julio move her waist, and she followed, swaying to the music, allowing the notes and the soft romantic Spanish lyrics take her away. The anxiety, the nerves; the apprehension she had felt, that had twisted and gnarled at her stomach into a tight knot, slowly loosened, vanishing as the music let her dance. She didn’t quite realise what she was doing. She simply let Julio move her body, as she felt him wrap his arms tight around her back, bringing her close. As a hand wove into her hair, she let herself be dipped back, a leg carefully pulled up around his waist. She arched her back towards him, feeling lighter than air when he brought her back up again to lead her into a cabinito. It felt so natural, so easy to move with such intimacy. They swayed, they stepped, she let him spin her for multiple turns and she followed his steps. Their hips and bodies rolled and twisted in sync and she trusted her partner to move her. When she felt him move her arms to hold his shoulders, she realised he was moving her downwards into a slight crouch. But she didn’t, her legs simply moving on instinct, stretching apart, the further he brought her down to the floor. She easily slid into the splits, freeing one of her hands to stretch and reach towards the glowing lights. Julio’s had crouched next to her, his arms holding her close that their foreheads were touching.

She hadn’t realised that she was panting slightly or that the music had stopped. Blinking in surprise, she was brought back to reality, when he gave a chuckle and a smile standing up. He held out a hand for her to take.

Marinette let him pull her up and she looked towards the other dancers, all of them talking amongst themselves, no doubt about her performance.

“Thank you for the wonderful dance Marinette.” Julio said.

“I – uh, yes. Um. Thank you for dancing with me.”

Julio gestured to the receptionist who waited for her at the door.

“We have your contact details, and we’ll be in contact with you soon.”

With a vague nod, still not quite grasping that she had just finished her first audition, she left the dance studio, leaving the faint murmurings and the glowing golden lights behind her.

As she made her way home she couldn’t help imagine what the future held for her if the audition had been successful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QUICK NOTE: I myself am a bachata dancer (by no means professional, I dance socially). I also know other styles. So for those that are curious, Bachata is a style of Latin dance, which originated from the Dominican Republic. Please check the link if for you to get a basic understanding of what the style entails - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k1jM1LrLfPg


	3. Latin Dirty Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

Marinette had heard nothing from Latina á Paris in the next week or so. She had been too nervous to call them up, to ask them how she did. So she busied herself into her university coursework, designing a beautiful intricate wearable piece, an summer evening dress. Marinette had started working on the purple and pink applique and detailing to the delicate white bodice of the dress she was making when her mobile phone rang.

It was Alya. She put the phone on speaker so she could continue sewing.

"Hey – Alya, what’s up?"

**Hey girl – finished class and five minutes away. Meet you in a bit.**

Marinette couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Inviting yourself over I take it.”

 **Yup and you already know I have a spare key to let myself in.**  She could practically hear the smug grin on Alya’s face. **I’m curious on knowing how your audition went.**

Marinette’s face fell, and she sighed, pinning one of her applique designs into place. “They haven’t come back with anything yet. Honestly I don’t want to get my hopes up, as well as yours.”

**I’m sure you aced it girl. My mom goes to the same dance school and she’s friends’ with some of the dancers that watched you perform. Said your performance was pretty amazing. Even mentioned something about doing the splits.**

“Heh, well yeah I did.”

**Damn girl – who knew you were that flexible.**

“I aim to please.”

**If you were that good, you’re bound to have made it in.**

“We’ll know when they actually get back to me.”

**Kay – I’m just across the street from your house so we’ll talk more in a sec.**

“Sure thing – see you in a moment.” And Marinette hung up the phone.

She stretched as she stood, sore from sitting down from far too long. But she had to prepare her room. It was covered in sewing utensils, bolts of fabric, fabric cuttings and sheafs of loose paper with measurements and rough sketches. Quickly tidying up her room to have some semblance of order, she gently covered the dress on her mannequin carefully with spare fabric so it wouldn’t get ruined, before pushing it against the wall.

She could hear Alya walking up the stairs to her attic room.

“Hey girl – so you gonna tell me how it went.” She grinned, making herself comfortable on Marinette’s chaise lounge.

“Not one to mince words.” Marinette laughed at her friend’s blunt introduction to most conversation. Her friend always got to the point.

“You know me – I need deets, ASAP.”

Marinette shrugged, leaning against the wall as she stood. She had been sitting for far too long.

“Well – I didn’t audition for the Shines team. They didn’t have anymore space.”

Alya frowned. “But you’d been practicing ages for that! That’s not fair.”

“It’s not like I could have done anything about it. Besides …” Marinette paused for a bit before looking at her friend.

“I did audition, just not for that team.”

Alya crossed her arms, her frown deepening. “So what did you audition for?”

“They asked me to audition for the Couples Teams.”

Alya blinked. The she blinked again. Then her face slowly lit with glee, a mischievous smirk gracing her lips. “Wait, wait – like couples as in groups of men and women grinding and groping to the point it’s like they’re having foreplay on hardwood … How come my mom never mentioned this?!”

“ALYA!” Marinette shrieked “It’s not foreplay on hardwood!”

Alya simply raised an eyebrow.

And Marinette realised there was no use trying to back her argument. “Okay – yeah, Bachata is a very sensual and a very intimate dance but it’s still beautiful and romantic if you think about it.”

“Okay – one girl, I always pegged you for a realist after you, and I quote: ‘gave up your crush with Adrien’. Two, I never said it wasn’t beautiful.”

Marinette groaned, slumping to the floor. “And when they mean Couples Teams … they mean Couples. As in single couples, not a group performance. I auditioned to be in a team with just a partner. I’m not sure for what level though.”

“Woah! Hold up!” Alya freaked, sitting up straight. “You’re gonna be doing the sexy alone!!!!! Holy crap! That’s even hotter! My precious innocent Marinette is gonna be body rolling against a guy in the spotlight as people watch on like voyeurs!”

“You are not helping my situation here! And stop making it sound like Bachata is the Latin version of dirty dancing.”

“It is the Latin version of dirty dancing, just a lot steamier with sexy men and even sexier women.”

“I keep forgetting you swing both ways sometime.” Marinette chuckled despite herself.

“Hey – I don’t deny it. What I’d kill to dance with either if I didn’t have two left feet. But they haven’t gotten back to you yet?”

Marinette’s black pigtails shook along with her head when she gave a mournful 'no'.

“How did you audition when you didn’t have anything prepared?”

“Impromptu dance performance. One of the judges offered to dance with me. He said they wanted to see what I could do dancing with a partner if I was just doing it socially. He was really good at leading so I don’t think I made any obvious mistakes.”

Marinette had been trying to assure herself throughout the week.

“Wish you could have filmed it. I want to see you actually perform for me sometimes.”

“If you actually came to one of my social events then maybe you would – and perhaps even get a dance with a sexy guy and even sexier girl.”

“Two left feet remember.”

“Honestly – I’m not really expecting anything back from them. I mean they seemed really nice but still. I only dance for fun, Alya. I’m by no means professional. At least I tried.”

Her best friend didn’t say anything. Marinette wondered what was going through that strange brain of hers. Sometimes her friend got the strangest and most dangerous of ideas.

“Whatever you’re scheming – forget it.”

“I’m not scheming.” She said innocently.

“And the Eiffle tower is Paris’s large metal … ‘man-piece’.” Marinette muttered.

“Okay – firstly, it’s Paris’s large metal d*ck, and secondly, I was not scheming.”

“I’m hungry – perhaps you eating will stop you from being filthy-mouthed in my room.”

“Don’t count on it.” Her friend laughed.

Marinette rolled her eyes and she stood up, her friend following her as they made their way downstairs to the kitchen.


	4. Good News or Bad News?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

Marinette was finishing a three-hour tutorial, when she felt her phone vibrate. She had already had a private consultation on her project and had received good feedback. As there was only fifteen minutes left of class, she decided to take an early mark, excusing herself from class quietly before leaving. She didn’t recognise the number.

“Hello, Marinette Dupain-Cheng speaking. Who’s calling please?”

**Hi Marinette. This is Anna, the receptionist and team coordinator at Latina á Paris.**

Marinette dropped her coursework, but just managed to quickly grab her laptop case in time. She bent down scrambling to pick up the rest of her work and fabric, holding her phone to her ear with just her shoulder.

“Oh – uh hi! Hi Anna, I remember you. Uh, what’s this about?” She asked picking up the last of her designs, before standing.

**I just wanted to tell you the good news – your audition was successful. Julio and the rest of the team judging you were very impressed by your impromptu performance. And they’ve agreed that you should be made one of our Advanced Couples. You and two others have been accepted. You’ll start dancing with your teammate properly, next week. Julio will be your dance instructor and looks forward teaching you. Hopefully we get to see you perform in the next two months or so at our Annual Ball.**

“I – wait! Really!” She squeaked. Had she heard right?

**Yes! Congratulations Marinette. Welcome to the Latina á Paris family.**

“I – I don’t know what to say. Only … THANK YOU!” she gushed, heart hammering fast. She couldn’t believe it. They had loved her performance. She was now an official dancer for their studio.

**Compulsory practice sessions are usually two days a week, for three to four hours, with an optional group session on the third day, which alternates from Saturday or Sunday. What days you will be practicing will have to be sorted out with your partner. Practice days and the hours you practice will increase the closer you get to performance dates. Are you able to commit to this?**

“Y-yes. That’s very reasonable. Wh-when do you n-need me to come in? When d-do I m-meet my partner?” She stumbled over her words still unable to grasp that this was happening.

**Tomorrow is Friday. Are you able to come in and meet your partner then. We don’t have set partners as of right now. But we have a strong potential candidate who we think will work really well with you but have others on standby just in case.**

“I-I finish class at 2 o’clock. I can head to the studio straight after.”

 **That will be fine. I’ll let the team know. And congratulations again, Marinette.** And the phone line went dead.

Marinette stood in the hallway of her university still in shock. She had been accepted. She had gotten in. This was a miracle. This was incredible. Wait … what. She had gotten in. Her audition had been successful?! How was that a good thing?! She was going to perform in front of others now! In front of professionals, in front of judges! Oh my gosh! No! This had to be a terrible mistake! She had gotten in and now she had to perform! What had she gotten herself into? And Marinette began to hyperventilate.

\-----

She told the ‘good’ news to her parents first. They had both hugged her tight, squealing in delight. Sabine made her daughter’s favourite Chinese dinner. Tom even brought out the celebratory champagne. But Marinette didn’t feel like celebrating. She had just been accepted to be an Advanced Couple’s dancer – she was scared _sh*tless_.

She had also texted Alya the ‘good’ news too. She had aptly replied with an unnecessary about of swear words and a congratulations thrown in too.

Now Marinette sat at her desk, unable to quite come to terms with the news she had been given. She couldn’t concentrate on her work, anxiety and dread completely distracting her from the textile patterns she was designing.

Tiki sat on her shoulder offering quiet words of comfort.

“Marinette – you’ve got this. You’re a beautiful dancer. Whenever you dance in your room its amazing to watch you. You’re so confident and you’ve completely lost yourself in the music.”

“That’s alone – in my room, Tiki.”

“What about when you go out dancing?” Tiki asked.

“Social dancing for fun. It's very different dancing in front of a live audience. You can’t afford to make a mistake.”

“Hence why you practice. Marinette; you’re a wonderful dancer. You’re so talented.”

“You’re saying this to someone who trips over her own two feet.”

“I’m also saying this to Ladybug, who happens to be incredibly confident in every step she takes and every move she makes.”

“Please tell me you weren’t listening to the 'Stalker Song' ...”

Tike laughed sheepishly. “The radio was left on downstairs. It was in my head the whole morning.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “I’m just scared I’m not gonna be good enough. Wh-what if my partner doesn’t like me? What if he thinks I’m cr*p?! Oh my gosh. He could be really good! I’ll get intimidated and step all over his feet during performances!” She began to panic and Tiki hushed her.

“Marinette – you’re going to be an amazing performer. You’ll be wonderful. I believe in you, as do your parents and Alya.”

Marinette smiled slightly. “Thanks Tiki. I – that helps a bit.”

Her kwami snuggled against her face. “Get to sleep Marinette, you’ve had a long day.”

The kwami’s chosen couldn’t agree more.


	5. The New Girl’s New Dance Partner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

Marinette tapped her foot nervously, the heels of her dance shoes making light clicks on the floor. She was the first person here, having got here half an hour early than she anticipated. When she got home from class her parents had left her a surprise gift. She couldn’t even thank them. They were out making a delivery. On her bed was a leotard with spaghetti straps, to wear under her leggings. It was black, simple but elegant. It fit her perfectly.

Wearing something else hadn’t been an option. She put in on immediately, wearing her favourite red and black dance shoes to bring her luck.

Anna came in, her brown hair braided and neat. “Marinette you’re here very early. Is that a new leotard?”

Marinette blushed. “Uh – sorry. And yes, it is. My parents got it for me. A sort of, congratulations present.”

“That’s sweet of them. Well the others haven’t arrived yet. Why don’t you head into the studio and warm up. We’re not supposed to turn on the giant speakers until the technicians get here, but we have communal I-phone speakers for you to use, if you need to listen to music.”

“Um, okay – yeah. I can do that.” Marinette picked up her bags and walked into the main studio.

Unlike the last time she was here, the room had been bathed in golden lights. Now the standard white ceiling lights lit the room. The room was also empty, and silent. It seemed much bigger without an audience watching her. She was alone. And that soothed her nerves. Tiki peeked out of her pink purse.

“Are you gonna practice?”

“Well – warm up I guess.” Marinette said. “You okay hiding in there?”

Tiki gave a smile, “At least keep the bag open slightly – I want to watch.”

Marinette laughed as she put her bags down carefully before heading to the I-phone speakers, plugging in her phone. “Alright Tiki. Any song request?”

“Just make it a good one.”

“You say that every time and why I put on a song you always say it’s your favourite one.”

“Exactly! That way you know you can never go wrong when you choose something.”

She flipped through her bachata playlist; she had accumulated quite a collection of different bachata songs, fast and slow, some more technical than other songs, others softer, more sensual. Most of them were in Spanish, some in Spanglish. Others were bachata remixes of popular songs. She had plenty of those. She had even managed to track down French bachata songs.

She opted for a slow one. It was one of her favourite remixes, as well as Tiki’s. Slower and far more sensual but leaning towards the edge of romantic. It had a beat that calmed her and made her feel beautiful whenever she danced. She often pretended she was dancing with another. It was a song meant to be danced with someone you loved and cared about. And without a partner, Marinette could only pretend.

The soft piano melody familiar and calming echoed throughout the space of the room. Closing her eyes, she let the music move her, her steps following the beat.

_Loving can hurt, loving can hurt sometimes_   
_But it's the only thing that I know_

Her body swayed, letting the music guide her body as she forward stepped before rolling her hips back, continuing to sway lightly into the next lyrics.

_When it gets hard, you know it can get hard sometimes_   
_It is the only thing that makes us feel alive_

She found herself spinning, side stepping, as her hands reached above to bring them back down again to her hair, pushing her fringe out of her eyes, before bringing her hands past her head to stroke down her neck, tracing her sides, and slowly past her hips. She watched her reflection, move, feeling sexy, feeling beautiful.

“We keep this love in a photograph”  
“We made these memories for ourselves”

She heard Tiki sigh in complete awe, completely enamoured by the woman who had completely lost herself in the music. She watched her body roll, her arms sway, and hands poise themselves in the most beautiful and delicate of positions. She seemed to breathe every step, with confidence and grace.

_Where our eyes are never closing_   
_Hearts are never broken_   
_And time's forever frozen still_

As Marinette danced, letting her hips sway, completely lost in her own world she didn’t hear the sound of quiet murmurs watching her from behind. She hadn’t realised the lights had dimmed and she was doused in the warm glow of performance lights. Someone had set the mood. They could only watch the beautiful new girl dance her heart out to beautiful music.

_So you can keep me_   
_Inside the pocket of your ripped jeans_   
_Holding me closer 'til our eyes meet_   
_You won't ever be alone, wait for me to come home_

She simply danced, spinning before slowly repeating the step of the last dance she had with another, slowly slipping into the splits as she bought her hands upwards, her head thrown back to feel the lights against her face. And she exhaled, finally opening her eyes. The warm up had been good. She had pretended if just for a moment that she was beautiful.

It was then the sound of clapping brought her back to reality and her eyes widened in shock. People were watching her! She scrambled from her position from the floor. She couldn’t tell how many had watched her dance. There were only golden lights in her eyes. She couldn’t see peoples’ faces. They were doused in shadow. And Marinette felt her cheeks burn, blue eyes looking at the floor in embarrassment.

The lights flicked to normal, but Marinette refused to look up. God. This was so _embarrassing!_  Why did they have to watch her dance like that? Especially since she was imagining she was dancing with someone else. She couldn’t hide or make excuses for the more provocative sway of her hips.

“That was _amazing_ , Marinette! I didn’t know you danced Bachata.” He said.

And Marinette felt the world turn upside down. Her head snapped up in shock, blue bell eyes widening when they met the most beautiful and familiar shade of evergreen. Her heart tripped and she felt her breath hitch. Her once flushed face going pale the space of a second, as she brought both hands to her open mouth. Somewhere, she swore she heard her kwami give a squeak in surprise, the revelation that hit her tiny red friend like a bombshell to the gut, mirroring her own. She knew those green eyes. She knew that melodious gentle voice. She knew the breathtaking face that now had to look downwards to talk to her, with his warm sincere smile.

“Marinette,” Julio said. She barely saw him in her peripheral vision.

“It seems you two know each other already. But introductions nonetheless. I’d like you to meet your potential new dance partner, Adrien Agreste.”

It was at that very moment – Marinette knew she was royally f*cked.


	6. The Other Dancers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

“A-Adrien!” She gave a yelp. “Wha?! What are you doing here?”

Adrien gave a light laugh. “I’ve just started taking lessons here. I auditioned for the Couples Teams but never found a partner that fit my schedule. So I’m here to see if the person that’s been suggested to partner up with me is compatible with my schedule. ”

Her face heated the longer she stared up into his face, awkward and embarrassing memories of her middle school crush years rushing back to her like an uncontrollable flood. Had he always been this tall? The boy she knew through school had gone, but it was still Adrien. He towered over her easily; by over a head. His golden untamed locks still remained. His eyes were still that bewitching and piercing evergreen. His long perfect nose was still the same, as was the warm sincerity of his smile. But the childish naivety of being fifteen had vanished. Instead, a man stood before her, the lines of his face had chiseled, becoming more refined, almost roguish as he grinned. His shoulders had broadened, arms and legs stronger and more toned, and beneath his loose white shirt she could easily make out the planes of a muscular chest. She had collected posters of his late teenage years. But a man stood before her. One that was far more than swoon-worthy. 

He was so beautiful to look at. How was it possible for Adrien Agreste to become even more beautiful than he was now? Her heart pounded in her ears; blood rushing to her face, butterflies fluttering delightfully in her stomach as she was hit by a wave of nerves. She didn’t doubt for a moment that if she spoke, she wouldn’t be able to make a coherent sentence. Her ‘somewhat-over-it-finally-crush’, the one she had harboured when she was fifteen had never really dissipated. Instead it came back to haunt her, six years later, in a renewed wildfire.

“I – but, you … America?!” she stammered.

It was then she saw something in Adrien’s green eyes. She didn’t know what it was, but they tightened in pain a little, and Marinette was suddenly guilt ridden as she watched his composure slip. This was obviously a painful topic.

“Yeah – but I left, came back here to work and study.” He gave an uncommitted shrug before giving a slight smile.

“Well – now that the two of you are acquainted – shall we get started?” Julio said, causing both of them to look at him. Marinette was thankful for the distraction; her cheeks still dusted pink by a lovely blush.

“We have three new dancers joining our Advanced Couples Team.” Julio said to the small group. Biting her lip, Marinette forced herself to pay attention to her the other couples.

“All six of you will be doing Single Couple routines. But you will also occasionally dance in several group-performances for events so it’s best you get to know each other as well as your respective dance partners. To those that have just auditioned, please introduce yourselves first, your age if you like and a little about yourself.”

Julio gestured to a slender girl, a little taller than her, and skin the same tone as her best friend Alya’s. But unlike Alya, her hair was long, dead straight, falling into a single sheet down the length of her back, which fell all the way to her waist. It was very dark brown, almost black. She had brushed it to the side, but kept it untied. Marinette could only imagine the difficulties she faced of having to dance with a ponytail or plait. Her partner would suffer whiplash to the face or the loss of an eye. She also had a noticeable beauty spot on her neck. Her eyes and nose were also like her own. Almond shaped eyes, and a small nose. She guessed this girl was of South-East Asian ethnicity. Hands folded quietly to her front, she too wore a dark leotard but with long sleeves, a pair of light grey shorts, with matching dark grey-silver dance shoes.

“Hi – I’m Jacquetta Benoist. But I prefer Jaxx. I moved to Paris a year ago to study Graphic Design and Visual Communication. I’m finishing my studies next year. I wasn’t born here. I was born in Canada. And I’m twenty-two. I started learning Latin dancing a year before I started university. I fell in love with it and have been doing it ever since. This is the first time I’ve ever auditioned for something professionally.”

Jaxx was soft spoken, mellow and the way she held herself shyly made Marinette smile. She was a good judgment of character and she found herself liking this girl immensely.

Julio thanked her before moving on to a more serious looking girl, considerably older, most likely in her late twenties. Unlike Jaxx, she was statuesque, blonde, with a regal air to her. Her practice costume was beautiful – a deep red that captured her beautiful figure well. She held herself in a way that not only intimidated others. She practically ensured others knew their place.

“I’m Léa Verone. I’m twenty-seven and have been dancing since I was three years old. I’ve been part of several championship teams, performing at the Bachata Festival many times. This is the first time I’ve auditioned as a for single couple.” There was a haughty threatening tone in her voice that Marinette disliked and she could almost hear Tiki from her bag, growling. She knew all to well that people such as Léa, were enough to test even Tiki’s patience.

Julio thanked her then finally turned to Marinette.

Still blushing, she gave a shy smile, which only grew when Jaxx returned it. Léa merely looked disinterested.

“Uh – My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’ve lived in Paris all my life. I’m half Chinese and half French and my parents work in a bakery. I’ve grown up baking and decorating cakes and other pastries. I’m currently studying to be a fashion designer. I’m twenty-one years old. I started learning to dance Bachata and other Latin styles when I started university. I’ve been doing it for just under three years now.”

Marinette thought it best to leave the whole ‘she was also Ladybug, superhero and protector of Paris’, out of the small monologue.

“Thank you for introducing yourselves. Now you’ve gotten to know each other, its time to get to know your partners properly as dancers. I’m going to play some music and the six of you are simply going to dance. No choreography, no technicalities. You’re not trying to prove me anything. I simply want you to get to feel and know each other’s dance styles. The more you learn about your partner as a dancer, the more comfortable and confident you feel.”

Julio went to put on some music and Adrien held out his hand.

“Shall we Marinette.” He gave a crooked grin.

Yup – Marinette was truly f*cked.


	7. Body Rolling Against A Model

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

From the small pink bag rested on the floor, Tiki could only watch in silence when all she wanted to do was … well there were two things she wanted to do. Firstly, she wanted to give the last dancer a good slap. Tiki at most times was a gentle kwami, encouraging, kind and supportive. But even she had standards. She couldn’t bear people who looked down on others. Secondly, she wanted to give her chosen the support she desperately needed right now.

From the outside Marinette was a mere blushing and stuttering mess. Tiki knew better. She was having a complete panic attack. Of all the men Marinette could have been partnered with, it had had to be her first crush – one she truly never gotten over. Tiki had been with her chosen since she was fifteen. She had watched the years Marinette had gone through, having to suffer unrequited love, as she was too scared to ever find out if Adrien returned her feelings. Her love or her ‘infatuation’ with him was innocent, adorable … and downright frustrating.

Tiki had given sage advice to her chosen should she ever cross paths with him again. Invite him out for a coffee, or to the park. Get his number. Simply become friends. They didn’t have to be romantically involved should Marinette decide not to pursue a helpless crush that was never acted upon. But Tiki had pictured the setting to be a little more ‘vanilla’ than what was about to occur.

The tall man, the one that had danced with her chosen the first time turned the music on, it came on in the loud speakers. And Tiki watched Marinette’s face blanch, turning pink to bright red in a flash of a second. Of all he songs it had to be this one! Tiki knew the song. It had become another one of her favourite’s even though the song was highly sensual even for a kwami. Marinette had played it on her I-pod on occasion – specifically reserved for the nights she just wanted to be ‘seductive’. This song didn’t have a romantic air. There was only desire … raw blatant desire. And from what she was seeing, Marinette was barely able to get used to the fact that she was about to body roll against her high school crush, who just also happened to one of France’s most famous fashion models. Tiki didn’t know whether to be concerned or to simply cringe. In the tiny bag she couldn’t do anything. She felt awful for her chosen but the embarrassment and awkwardness that radiated with the tension in the air, made Tiki want to bury her face in her small hands. What was worse, Adrien only smiled, completely oblivious to poor Marinette’s predicament, as he simply wrapped a hand around

_El tiempo pasa y pasa y yo sigo asi_   
_Queriendote en mis brasos sin poderte tener_   
_Y busco una salida para no verme asi_   
_Ay que lejos de mi lado tu amor esta de mi_

Marinette’s tiny waist so casually. She swore she could hear Marinette give a squeak.

Tiki gave up. She hid herself in the very bottom of that pink little bag, unable to watch the traumatic scene that would soon play out in front of her.

As for Marinette, she could barely breathe. Desperately looking for something else to distract her, she looked away, only for her eyes to travel downwards, to the sculpted planes of his chest, underneath a cotton shirt that didn’t leave much for the imagination. She couldn’t move, her steps uncertain, jerky. She had completely frozen, her feet refusing to work. And why wouldn’t her heart stop pounding in her chest. Oh my gosh! She was making an utter fool of herself.

“Hey – relax.” Adrien urged her gently. “I’ve got you.”

“I – uh …” Marinette stammered, wanting nothing more than to run from the room.

_Yo lloro y lloro al saber que no estas_   
_Con mis labios mira mami yo te quiero besar_   
_Y trato y trato por no sentirme asi_   
_Pero eres malo saber que ya no me quieres a mi_

In the periphery of her vision she saw her two other teammates with their partners, moving beautifully on the dance floor, bodies so in sync that they flowed to the music, reminding her of water. They were absolutely breathtaking to watch. Jacquetta simply trusted her dance partner. She made it look so easy, letting him move her without restraint. Their bodies were in perfect sync. As for Léa, Marinette couldn’t deny the fact that she looked absolutely stunning as she danced. Her technique was on point, the sensuality mixed with the perfect level of professionalism, Marinette knew she would never be up to par with a dancer like her. And there she was, an awkward mess of nerves and clumsy footwork, who couldn’t even look at her very beautiful and extraordinary partner in those beautiful evergreen eyes of his. 

_Mira, como estoy sufriendo_   
__Me quemo por dentro, por sentir tu amor_ _   
__Mami, no me hagas eso, sabes que te quiero_ _   
__Con todo el corazon_ _

“S-sorry – I just … nervous.” She babbled, stumbling for words. “The others – so-so good. I mean, I’m clumsy and you’re a-amazing! I mean no! You’re dance technique I’m sure – not that you aren’t amazing yourself … _Oh god!_ ”

If Marinette wasn’t mortified earlier, she was certainly mortified now. And with Julio watching the two of them carefully, scrutinising her nerves, the anxiety welling within her worsened. She hated being put under pressure if it meant being in the spotlight. Combined with being in very close proximity with the most beautiful man she had ever known to the point she could even smell the scent of his amazing cologne (as well as being the fact this was the only man she had truly been in love or more infatuated with), this only worsened her nerves.

Unknown to Marinette who was looking at her feet, Adrien gave a slight frown.

It was only then she realised realised Adrien had carefully but firmly brought both of her arms upwards, only to wrap them around his neck. Marinette gave a slight squeak in surprise when she felt two strong arms wrap slowly around her waist, a hand trailing up her back to bring her close to him until she was completely pressed against the warm expanse of his chest.

_Te amo y te extraño quiero verte junto A mi_   
_Abrasados de las manos y estar junto a ti_   
_Pero me mata la conciencia el saber que no esta aqui_   
_Oh baby why you gotta be doing this to me_

“A-Adrien!” she gasped, blue bell eyes widening to the size of saucers when he brought his forehead to hers, his nose barely brushing against her own.

But his eyes were serious. He wasn’t smiling. “Ignore everyone else. Don’t compare yourself to them. You’re dancing with me.”

“B-but -” She began but Adrien gently cut her off.

“No buts. I know you’re nervous. Just close your eyes.”

“The o-others-”

“I said _ignore_ them. Focus on me. Focus on the music. And let me move you; trust me alright.”

“I …” Marinette lost her voice when the intensity of his gaze made her pulse quicken, her heartbeat pause in her chest. There was an earnest look in his eyes, Marinette had never seen before. It was unfamiliar but unlike the other times he had looked at her, with smiling green eyes, or happy gazes that sent her heart soaring, this was different. This wasn’t a heart thrashing in her chest because her crush had smiled at her. She couldn’t describe it. Instead, her heart ached for him.

_Me duele tanto de saber que ya no eres para mi_   
_Y ese lindo cuerpesito que contigo comparti_   
_Me duele tanto saber que ya no eres para mi_   
_Te extraño ..._

“Okay. I trust you.” She said quietly. And she closed her eyes, as he said.

With her eyelids shut, she could only see muted yellow. But she could feel the warmth of his breath fan over her face, the tickle of his hair against her forehead. Without seeing him, it made things a little easier. She wasn’t hyperventilating. She also couldn’t see the other dancers, worrying constantly that they were so much more skilled than she was. But then, it also made things difficult. Without her sight, she couldn’t apprehend his moves, where he would turn her, what his footwork would be like. She could only hear the steady beat of the intimate music. She could only feel his hands, pressing her tight against his chest. Without her sight, she had no choice but to trust him completely.

He moved her simply at first, one hand guiding her hips back and forth, side to side. And she slowly got used to having no sight, her hesitant steps slowly growing in confidence. She bit her lip, conscious of the way his fingertips brushed against the rise of her hipbone. But she had to trust him as her partner. With a shaky exhale she followed him.

“Breathe, Marinette. I’ve got you.” He murmured against her skin.

“I – I trust you.” She said shyly.

The hand to the left side of her waist moved, as they swayed and stepped to the beat. With baited breath and eyes closed shut, she trembled when she felt fingertips trace over the skin of her leg, moving downwards. There was a pause in the music. And then Marinette found herself arching back into a deep dip, her left leg hitched around Adrien’s waist before he slowly brought her back up into a quick spin. Her eyes flew open as she gasped in surprise, when hands brought her close from behind, her back pressed against his hard chest. Flushing she turned her face slightly to look at him. And the blush on her face deepened when those evergreen eyes burned with the same intensity he gave her earlier. He brought her left hand upwards to wrap touch the side of his cheek as they swayed slowly, his free hand guiding her hips, both of them swaying into a body roll. Unconsciously she found her hips moving on their own accord, as she rocked her hips against his pelvis, the move tantalizing and teasing. When had she ever gotten so bold?

_Ay amor (Ay amor).._   
_Como me duele! (como me duele)_   
_Estar sin ti (estar sin ti)_   
_Tu no me amas_

But Marinette found herself sighing against him. She couldn’t understand. Her rapid heartbeat and her nerves hadn’t ceased. But the anxiety had disappeared. She didn’t feel scared anymore. Instead she felt soft warmth. No – she _burned_ wherever Adrien touched her, his hands, arms, fingertips leaving a scorching trail on the surface of her skin. Every intimate gesture, every sensual step made her body feel as if it was on fire, hypersensitive to the heated passion with every step they took. And she let him move her, keeping her frame. As they moved, everyone else had been long forgotten. There was just her: the soft steady music and her dance partner. And she began to feel sexy; she bean to feel wanted; she began to feel beautiful once more.

_Mira como estoy sufriendo (como estoy sufriendo)_   
_Me quemo por dentro por sentir tu amor (por sentir tu amor!!)_   
_Mami (ay mami) no me hagas eso (no me hagas eso) sabes que te quiero con todo el corazon_

Marinette had never imagined meeting Adrien again, like this. She had so many questions. But words and coherent thoughts had been forgotten as she danced with him. Words would come later. Now there was just music and footwork, and the wooden floor they danced on. It was easy to dance with him. Like breathing. It wasn’t as if she had confidence in herself. Rather, she was confident that she could trust him completely. And he swept her away into the music, as she found herself spinning endlessly on the balls of her feet. When she felt Adrien push into her space, her body didn’t resist, allowing the warmth and strength of Adrien’s thigh slip in between her own, to support her weight. She would have been embarrassed, if he hadn’t fixed her with a gaze that made her heart stop in her chest and her pulse quicken.

_Mira, como estoy sufriendo_   
_Me quemo por dentro, por sentir tu amor ..._ _por sentir tu amor_

He moved, and she didn’t resist, their hips slowly rolling in sync with the music, before he quickly turned and she kicked her foot upwards, giving the move flare. The intimacy felt so easy. Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, the music and the steps a language that felt more familiar than their own. How could it be so easy to dance with him so seductively when she couldn’t even make a coherent sentence? Yet her body fit against his perfectly, her small frame utterly dependent on the man who hitched another of her legs, around his waist so effortlessly. And he made her feel so light on her feet, as if she was nothing but air, as he guided her arms upwards, gesturing her to turn, when she felt the slight pressure of his thigh move against her own. She couldn’t pull away from him. Her body didn’t know how to resist. Her body moved on instinct. She had become compliant in his hands. She was nobody’s puppet. Adrien wasn’t controlling her movements by force for she followed willingly. Instead, she was the clay and he, the artist, molding and guiding her steps into a beautiful and provocative dance, until she knew nothing else.

_Mami, no me hagas eso, sabes que te quiero_   
_Con todo el corazon_

“You’re getting the hang of it.” He chuckled, slightly breathless, not removing his leg from in between her thighs.

Instead he brought her into one final dip. And she let go of his shoulders, trusting him completely as she arched. Her head would have touched the floor had it not been for one of Adrien’s hands carefully cradling her head, fingers woven into her now messy hair. She had reached out her arms, as they delicately poised themselves into a final style, her fingertips brushing the floor.

She hadn’t realised the music had stopped. Adrien carefully brought her back up into a standing position. And Marinette couldn’t get rid of the blush that warmed her cheeks.

She had just had her first Bachata dance with the love of her life, and high school crush. She had just body rolled and swayed her hips provocatively against Adrien Agreste, the most famous of young models in all of France; moves that he practically encouraged. And Marinette couldn’t tell if she wanted to sing with joy or die of embarrassment. She could only look at her partner with sheepish eyes, wrapping her arms around herself, very self-conscious. Marinette could visibly sense herself shrink on the spot, discomfort sinking in the middle of her stomach.

But when a warm hug suddenly enveloped her, she gave a muffled yelp of surprise. But before she could say anything Adrien stood back, resting a hand on her shoulder.

“That was amazing, Marinette! You followed me so well. You’re going to be a great dance partner.”

The sincerity in Adrien’s voice, and the excitement in his eyes, caught Marinette by surprise. He looked genuinely pleased, even happy that he had danced with her. Despite how heated and sensual the dance had been, Adrien looked as if he were simply congratulating her efforts for being a great dancer. He didn’t seem to care what had just occurred, or more specifically what Marinette had felt in the few minutes that they danced together. His ease and casualness for the entire thing and the comforting weight of his hand on her shoulder oddly calmed her. And Marinette gave a shy smile in return.

“Thank you for dancing with me – you’re amazing as well.”

Adrien gave an even brighter smile. “What do you think Julio? She’s gonna be an amazing partner.”

Julio joined them smiling, already having met with to the other couples, who talked quietly amongst themselves. “Granted, you were a bit awkward at first Marinette, but perhaps that was due to nerves.”

Marinette blushed slightly, cringing. If only he knew.

“But you quickly caught up and let Adrien lead you. Your instinct to follow and to let your partner move you with such confidence is a very good thing.” Julio continued.

“There are some technical things you need to work on Marinette. Performance is not the same as social dancing. But that’s what practice is for. However, the two of you together share a very intimate connection, which I like – both of you are passionate towards your footwork and styling. The emotion you evoke when you dance together is incredible.”

“Thanks Julio. We appreciate it. Right Marinette?”

“Y-yeah.” Was all she could say, rubbing her hands nervously.

“I sincerely hope you two partner up. The two of you dance well together and look good as a couple. I hope to see performances from you Marinette.”

Marinette didn’t miss the fact her new instructor said ‘couple’.

“Okay.” Marinette wanted to say more but she only had the ability for one-worded answers.

“But you and Adrien can organise times later. We have an hour left so lets actually learn some new footwork.”

Adrien gave Marinette a friendly squeeze on her shoulder as he followed Julio in front of the mirrors, soon joined by Jaxx, Léa and their own partners.

Well, Marinette thought, giving a shaky exhale as she stood there, still unsure of what to make of her situation, let’s see where this leads me. And Marinette cringed at her own stupid pun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was the song Adrien and Marinette were dancing to. It's one of my favourites and is a very popular song to dance to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i65xyscJHuM


	8. White and Dark Chocolate & Mr. Rousseau

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

The rest of class had passed by in somewhat of a blur. Mariette was amazed she had been able to focus on the all of the connection work Julio taught them. When class finally finished, her entire frame ached from having to hold herself in positions she had never used before with a partner. She would have been embarrassed by some of the more intimate poses had Julio not forced them to hold their stances for several minutes. What looked sexual was more painful then anything else. Now Marinette could only slowly pick up her bags, with very sore feet, thigh muscles, arms, shoulders, neck … every bone in her body was sore.

She winced as she crouched to gather her belongings.

“Hey Marinette.”

The raven-haired girl blushed a bright pink when she saw Adrien stand next to her. He bent down to pick up his bags, face slightly flushed and sweaty from today’s first lesson.

“A-Adrien – Hi, what’s up?” She tried to ask casually, only to fail miserably at the attempt. She was never going to able to talk properly around him.

“Nothing – just wanted to say I’m excited that I’m going to be dancing with a familiar face. It’s amazing to see you again after so long.” He gave a friendly smile.

Marinette felt her face blush. How was he able to be so sincere and so friendly? It was one of the many reasons that she fell in love with him.

“Today’s class was pretty intense – especially for a first lesson. I’m gonna be so stiff for tomorrow’s shoot.”

“Oh – you still model?” Marinette wanted to kick herself for the stupid question. Of course he still modelled.

“Yeah – it’s good money I have to admit and it’s helping me pay for my school tuition.”

“Wh-what are you studying?” she asked, gingerly getting up. Her leg muscles were killing her.

“Need some help?” Adrien chuckled, green eyes suddenly glinting with mischief.

Marinette frowned as she blushed, but took his hand anyway. He lifted her up without effort and she gave a squeal in surprise, when she accidentally fell and slammed into Adrien’s chest, face first.

“Sorry! You’re much lighter than I anticipated.”

Face already as red as it could be, she stepped back, babbling as she held her hands up.

“No! No! It’s my fault. I’m sorry.”

“Well – how about we go get some coffee together or something to eat? I’m starving. And we need to organize the times we can practice together anyway.”

Her heart gave a summersault. Adrien was asking her out for coffee. The Adrien Agreste was asking her out … for coffee! And she began to gush out her thanks.

“I – I’d love to! I mean, of course. It makes sense to organize practice times. Not that that’s the only reason why I wanna have coffee with you! I mean – I haven’t seen you in ages and … you know I’m gonna stop talking.”

She could almost swear she hear Tiki give an embarrassed groan from inside her pink purse.

“Great! Let’s go. There’s a small café that I always go to every time I come here. We can catch up.” Adrien gently brought a hand in between Marinette’s shoulder blades, leading her out towards the door. And her skin burned where he touched her.

How on earth was she going to survive having coffee with him?!

\-----

Marinette found herself cradling a warm hot chocolate as she looked over the stone paved streets, cars and people rushing past. But she had no plans of going anywhere. Not when a certain blonde was sitting right next to her. People had naturally recognised him the moment he walked into the café. He was clearly a regular – and popular among the female staff. Customers came up to them, well him specifically, begging for a picture. To her surprise, he politely declined, gesturing towards her. The word ‘coffee-date’ had been mentioned and her ears burned with the words, her eyes going wide in disbelief, her face mirroring those of his beloved fan girls.

Like the gentleman he was he insisted that he pay for everything even when she had refused. Before she could take money out of her wallet, Adrien had bought her a hot chocolate and a toasted cheese sandwich. He wouldn’t take no for an answer. All she could do was sit quietly in a small corner of the café, anxiously biting her lower lip until he brought their food and drinks.

“I never took you for someone who liked ‘white’ hot chocolate.” Adrien sat down next to her on the two-seater sofa she was on. Marinette gulped, looking at the white frothy surface of her drink.

“Uh – yeah. I guess I really have a sweet tooth. Um, being a baker’s daughter and all.”

“Don’t get me wrong. It’s not a bad thing. I just always expected you’d be the kind of person to like milk-chocolate.” Adrien said, taking a sip of his mocha.

Marinette thought for a moment. It was true. She didn’t eat a lot of milk chocolate, except only when she was offered it.

“It’s not that I don’t like it. But I like white chocolate and dark chocolate the best, either the really sweet stuff, or the really bitter and raw tasting one.”

“No middle ground right? It’s either one or the other.”

Marinette smiled a little as she took another sip of her drink, the sweet foamy warmth filling her mouth before she swallowed.

“Yeah. They’re so different but I guess that’s why people try to make milk chocolate, to balance that. But what’s the point of balancing that taste when both taste just as good, especially when they’re on their own.”

Marinette gave Adrien a shy smile, a blush tinting her cheeks at the little confession.

The smile he returned was breathtaking, So much for wanting to keep a somewhat comprehensible conversation with him.

“Wha- what about you? I mean, what chocolate do you like?” She asked quickly, desperate to take the spotlight off of her.

“Funny you ask but I’m a lot like you. I either like white or really dark chocolate. Milk is good, but I prefer having them separate, ‘cus they’re so different. Most times people say I’m weird for thinking that. It’s nice to know someone has similar tastes.”

Marinette laughed softly. “Alya just gave me this look when I told her when I liked either white or dark but not milk. She got really offended, saying I shouldn’t be racist to the dark and white chocolate babies born from mixed-chocolate-marriages.”

Adrien gave a hearty chuckle as he took another drink. “That would be something Alya would say. How has she been? Or more to the point how have you two been? We haven’t spoken since I left France. What have you been up to?”

“Well – I’m in my third year of university as you know. I’m at ESMOD.”

“Congratulations! The courses I heard are fantastic. Are you enjoying it there?”

Marinette nodded, eyes shining at the thought of being at such an inspiring and innovative university. “I’m so glad I managed to get it. It was difficult at first. As for Alya, we’re still best friends. She’s studying Media and Communications. She’s still the same.” Marinette didn’t need to explain much after that. Adrien had been friends with Alya in school. He knew her eccentricities.

“Considering her obsession with the Ladyblog when we were in school – it’s the perfect career for her. She still doing it?”

The question was innocent enough but Marinette knew she had to be cautious. “She is but it’s been fairly quiet. I mean, considering the fact it’s only been Ladybug patrolling Paris. You remember how she put up that blog on how Chat had to leave Paris for a bit?”

Adrien’s eyebrows scrunched together in a troubled frown and Marinette cocked her head to the side, concerned.

“Oh – it’s nothing. Just wondering how Ladybug’s managed to do things all on her own.”

Marinette gave an uncommitted shrug. “Thankfully there have been no akuma attacks. But she still has to keep the rest of Paris safe from the occasional hooligans and drug addicts.”

“She’s had to fight drug addicts?” Adrien said flatly.

Marinette almost kicked herself for revealing too much information. “Uh yeah – just a couple of times. I saw it on the Ladyblog. But apparently the guys were too stoned to really do anything to her.”

“Hm.”

“Uh …,” Marinette began awkwardly, “How long have you been in France?”

“Me – for a while, just over a year, just not in Paris, so it was difficult to connect with people I knew from school. I was in Bordeaux for a while, studying there. I was saving up from my last modelling stints, and waiting for the right moment to transfer to the Paris campus of my university. Now I’m back here.”

“What are you studying?”

“Physics as my major and doing a minor in Engineering.”

Marinette blinked slightly, mouth slightly open.

“Uh – wow. Um - congratulations. I mean; you were always really good at physics and mathematics when we were in school. And you’re still modelling part-time?”

“Honestly – it was the easiest way to get money quickly. I had the contacts and I could get work quickly. And it’s paid well for my university fees and my rent. It’s not what I plan to do afterwards. But it keeps me going.”

“So you’re living by yourself?”

“Actually I’m rooming with Kim and Max, remember them?”

Marinette did. She hadn’t really spent time with them much at school but she got on fairly well with the jock and his sidekick gamer-friend.

“Yeah.”

“Well we currently share an apartment thirty minutes out of the city.”

There was one question that had been bugging Marinette since they left the studio.

“Uh – Adrien, if it isn’t too much to ask … you don’t even have to answer if the you’re uncomfortable with it, but why did you leave America. I got the impression that you had left France for good.”

Adrien took a deep breath, looking out the window as he did. She could see his shoulders tighten, the mood between the two of them shifting from friendly to uncomfortable in a mere second.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have – “ she began but Adrien spoke before she could finish apologizing.

“No. You deserve to know. Kim and Max know since I live with them. I told Nino as well if not all the details. And you should know too if we’re going to be dancing together.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.” She offered.

Adrien looked back at her, his green eyes sad, as he gave a heartfelt smile.

“You know I’ve never really been close to my dad. I mean – it’s not like it was a secret when we were in school”

Marinette nodded.

“I left for America because my dad wanted me to. I didn’t want to go. I downright refused at first. I was eighteen, an adult. But him being who he was, he threatened to blacklist me from modelling jobs here. I wouldn’t have been able to find work. At the time I panicked. I hadn’t considered I could work elsewhere. I didn’t have to work as a model. I could have found other worked, lived on my own; be my own person without having to rely on him. But I’d only ever known a sheltered life so I was pretty much unprepared for that. I really had no choice.”

“But when you left, you told us that you were going to work things out with your dad.”

Adrien gave a sigh. “That’s what I was trying to reassure myself with. If I moved to America, became an official model for the Agreste brand I would finally be doing something my dad wanted. I thought we’d become closer, that he could be proud of me.”

“But?”

“But … yeah, there’s a but.”

“Adrien, you really don’t have to tell me this. If you’re not ready …”

“No – it’s good to get it off my chest. And you knowing, is so much better. Basically I wanted to study. I wanted to do more than model. I wanted to go to university, prove that I could do more than stand in front of a camera and pose. I wanted to get a part time job, learn what it was like to be independent, and to prove myself. I thought as an adult, he’d let me do more. That things would get better now that I was an adult. But it didn’t. My life got harder. It was all schedules, no time to be me. I was being stifled. There were times all I wanted to do was scream. I ... I wasn’t in a very good place for a while. I got depressed fairly easily.”

Marinette felt her eyes go wide in shock. “You got depression?”

“For a while, until I found something to make my life a bit more bearable. But even then, I still wasn’t my own person. I wasn’t even Gabriel Agreste’s son – I was his brand, his image … and a label to represent him. Nothing more than that. And him forbidding me to study was the final straw.”

Adrien took a deep breath before running a hand through his golden hair, giving an exhausted sigh. “I quit modelling for him. I left my life behind. Two and a half years of being unable to breathe, having no freedom, he even continued to control how much I ate, to the point my agents were starving me at one point. I had to get out. It was either leave, or never get out, be consumed by a life I loathed. When I turned twenty-one, I contacted my lawyers and inherited the money my mother left me. She had left me a considerable amount surprisingly, even a small apartment, which had been hers. I don’t live there now, since it’s in Bordeaux, but it guaranteed an immediate investment and money I could rely on as well as a place to live. I couldn’t get back to Paris straight away. I told my father that I didn’t want this life. I left him, bought the first ticket back to France I could get. I had to get back home.”

Marinette listened. And her heart ached for the man beside her. From the outside, Adrien seemed to have the perfect life. He had the looks, and had seemingly had the perfect life. But Adrien’s revelations told Marinette everything. This was a man that had grown exhausted and disillusioned with the life he had been forced to live since he was very young. He had never had freedom. He had never truly lived. He only knew what it was like to be pushed and pushed without support. He had been given everything except what he truly wanted, love, kindness and acceptance to be his own person. Yet he had gone through so much, all on his own. He had to leave his sheltered prison life behind. He had to experience so much the hard way. And he had done it all on his own.

“What happened next?” she asked quietly.

“Well I started living in the apartment my mother left me. Nothing special. Single room, one bathroom, kitchenette and living room. Simple but it was home. I found work in a small supermarket. I packed and unpacked shelves. I worked at the cash register! But it helped me get by. Now I rent that place out, since I’m here. So even without work I still have a steady amount of money for a rainy day. As for my dad … I pretty much left America without so much as a goodbye. And my father being who he is, threatened to sue me. He told me he was going to ruin my name and I told him fine. The more modelling companies that didn’t want me, the better. I was prepared to work even the most meaningless jobs if it meant being away from him, to distance myself from everything that I had been. I would be earning money on my own, my way. Not his. But then look at me now; I’m still modelling.”

Adrien continued, leaning back into the sofa. “Thankfully there were small agencies that still wanted to hire me to represent their brand, since I officially can no longer model for the Agreste line of clothing. My father tried blacklisting me from French companies like he promised but when he did it was already too late. I one-upped him. I had officially left his label; made a statement and everything. I refused to associate myself with the man any more that I went that extra mile.”

“What do you mean?” Marinette cocked her head in confusion.

“Technically, I still have to use Agreste as my last name. It’s not like I can’t stop using it. My university is still in the process of changing my name in their database and when I came here I had to sign documents and such with it. And people know me as Adrien Agreste – I can’t stop people from calling that name out. Even Julio, used it. But soon, my modeling agent will start officially using my new last name.”

“What are you talking about?”

Adrien gave a slight smile. “I no longer use Agreste as my surname. Just over a month ago, I officially adopted my mother’s maiden name as my surname. I’m now Adrien Rousseau. The name change kind of helps me a lot when it comes to any drama or other conflict with having to model a new brand.”

“Wait – what?! So you’re … you’re no longer an Agreste?”

“Strictly speaking, I am still. I can’t ever stop being an Agreste. An unfortunate curse that can never lift since I am Gabriel Agreste’s son. But I’m also my mother’s child. I’m also a Rousseau. And I’m proud to bear her last name as my own.”

“I – that was a lot to take in.” Marinette murmured, still processing everything that he told her.

“Yeah – sorry for souring the mood.”

“No! You don’t have to apologise for anything. You stood up to your father. That takes courage. You left America, with almost nothing, no connections, no job. And yet you pulled through. You did everything … all on your own. How did you manage it?”

Marinette couldn’t even dream of doing something like that all on her own. She wouldn’t have coped. She would have given up. But perhaps Adrien’s circumstances meant that giving up hadn’t been an option. It only meant that he would have to push harder, to keep going regardless on the difficulties he faced.

“It – it was hard at first. But the difficulties I faced made me value things I never expected. I began to appreciate little things, little actions, here and there. I began to love proving that I could be independent. And when I got accepted into a university in Bordeaux, it was the greatest feeling in the world, knowing I did everything on my own. And now I’m here. Living with Kim and Max has helped a lot – they’ve been great. Yeah it’s tough but I wouldn’t trade this life for my old one. Not in a million years and more.”

Marinette gazed at Adrien’s face. He looked so proud, so … happy. He was genuinely happy with how things had turned out for him. And Marinette’s heart fluttered. She was so proud of him. Marinette shyly reached over, to give one of Adrien’s hand a squeeze and he looked at her in surprise.

“I wish I could have been there to help you. I would have. But I’m really proud of you, Adrien.”

She didn’t look at his face. But when she felt Adrien give her hand a squeeze back, acknowledging that she cared, it was enough to make her heart soar. And her heart flew higher and higher when Adrien never loosened his grip.

“So – how long have you been dancing, where did you learn?” Marinette asked, shifting the conversation to more pleasant topics.

“Would it be ironic, that I have modelling to thank for, for that?”

Marinette shook her head.

“A dance clothing company wanted a prestigious and well known model to represent their brand. Of course, this was contract work. I was signed on without realising it, and with no dance knowledge whatsoever. My father’s idea. At first I was going to refuse the job but when I started taking lessons to prepare myself for the shoot later … it somewhat helped me escape from being me, I guess. I actually had fun. Remember how I said I was in a very bad place when I was living in America. Had I not started taking lessons, I don’t even imagine what could have happened if I had decided not to. They gave me an escape. They kept me sane, they made me … they made me feel alive whenever I felt dead inside. And the shoots themselves, they were more real. I didn’t just have to pose. I had to dance for every photograph. It was the one thing my father didn’t mind me continuing, since it encouraged other dance brands and companies to hire me. That and my father extended his fashion label to include dance attire. When I came here, I continued as much as I could, I had the freedom to. It’s thanks to those dance lessons that kept me going, that gave me the courage to leave my old life behind. But I never told my father about the kind of dancing I was learning … only that it was vaguely Latin.”

Marinette laughed at the last bit. “Well you’re incredible. I started learning at university.”

“I remember you always used to be … uh … fairly um … clumsy at school. So I was really surprised when I came in and saw you dancing. First, because I hadn’t seen you in ages, secondly … you were so confident.”

Marinette blushed brightly. Adrien had a point. She was notoriously clumsy. She couldn’t walk without finding something to trip on, usually her own feet. But when she danced … it felt so … different. She was different.

“I can’t quite understand it myself. My feet dance, they don’t walk.”

“And your parents support you dancing?”

Marinette nodded, “They took salsa lessons and they always wanted me to get into some kind of social dance. Of course, me being me, I didn’t want to at first. I thought I was going to be too awkward.”

“Clearly – that’s not the case. You’re an amazing dancer.” Adrien smiled thoughtfully. Marinette was beginning to wonder if Adrien had a talent for making her blush constantly.

“Well,” Marinette cleared her throat. “It’s made me more social. I mean – I’m still really studious and Latin dancing encourages me to go out more with my friends.”

“How are your parents by the way? Are they still making that amazing quiche I had the last time I was over, when was it … when we were practicing for the game tournament?”

“Still baking, still happily married. And I still live in my attic bedroom. Sewing is fine, but I don’t have much room to practice in there. So I usually practice on my balcony.”

“Wait – you practice on your balcony, body rolling for the entire world to see?” Adrien inquired, raising an eyebrow. She couldn’t tell if he was genuinely curious or teasing her.

“No one can hear my music, and no one can really see me!” she said quickly.

“Well speaking of dancing, the main reason we came here was to organise the times we can practice together. When are you free?”

She thought for a moment “I have classes, Mondays and Tuesdays but always in the mornings. They last for three hours. I also have a one-hour lecture on a Wednesday. I work Friday afternoon and evening shifts and the rest of the day on a Wednesday after my class. How about you?”

“I have classes Monday morning too. And Tuesday’s and Fridays. Modelling depends on the shoot so I guess we’re gonna have to work around that. But if I set a time in my schedule I’ll be able to meet you Monday afternoon to practice. Same with Thursday afternoon.”

“I can work with that – I just don’t want to get in the way of your studies or your shoots.”

“I think my shoots can deal with me doing this. They’re actually encouraging it. I’m currently doing modelling contract work with a company that supplies most of the costumes and shoes for Latina á Paris. The dance studio gives them good money. Any clashes can be dealt with. I guess the only issue is you’ll have to come to the shoot to practice when I’m unable to come to the studio. You’ll have to watch me dance during the shoots, or be part of it.” He added jokingly.

Marinette almost choked on her drink. Modelling very intimate Latin Dance poses with Adrien, and be photographed doing it?! Her brain couldn’t take that.

“O-okay! I can work with this.”

Adrien checked the time. “Looks like I need to head off soon. I’m on dinner duty tonight.”

“Same,” Marinette said, checking her own wristwatch, “Um – th-thank you for the hot chocolate.”

“Anytime Marinette, we should do this again, after our first practice.” Adrien gave her a grin.

And Marinette thought she’d faint right there on the spot.


	9. Spill The Beans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

Marinette found her parents in the sitting room, waiting for her. Alya was with them. So much for escaping a ‘talk’. She heard Tiki whisper a tiny ‘good luck’ from inside of her purse.

“So – how was your first class? Did you like your dance partner? Are you comfortable with him?” Tom asked excitedly, before giving a frown, “He isn’t being too forward with the whole ‘touching’ thing is he?”

“Uh, dad, really …”

“Dear, let Marinette sit down first, she hasn’t even taken off her shoes yet.” Sabine said gently.

“I want deets! And I want to know all the dates of your performances. I’m so going to make a blog dedicated to your dancing.”

“Please no …” Marinette groaned. She collapsed onto the sofa. She was so sore.

“Long class.” Tom chuckled.

“Exhausting – I’m going to be stiff tomorrow. At least it’s the weekend.” Marinette wasn’t sure if she would be able to patrol tomorrow, all she really wanted was a long and very hot bath. She didn’t need questions, let alone small talk.

“So what’s your partner like? When will you be practicing?” Alya pressed.

“Have you organised practice times with him?” her mother asked.

“What are the other couples like?” his father interjected.

“Woah – calm down.” She held up her hands. “Too many questions. Firstly, thank you maman, thank you papa, for the leotard. It’s perfect and fits like a glove.”

“You’re welcome, Mari. We’re happy that you liked it.” Sabine smiled at her daughter.

“Okay. Yes, I’ve organised practice times. I’ll be practicing on a Monday and a Thursday. Don’t worry – we set dates so they wouldn’t clash with university classes. And as for my partner … he’s … well, he’s really nice.”

Marinette didn’t want to reveal who here partner was, not just yet. She would but not to her parents and Alya all at once.

“Is he good?” Tom asked again.

“Amazing. He’s an amazing dancer. I – I was nervous at first because he was too good but he leads very well. It was easy to follow him.”

“Do we know him? Maybe my mother might. She knows a lot of dancers from the school.” Alya asked her.

Ah – there it was. So much for trying to keep things relatively hidden.

“Uh … ” Marinette was at a loss on how to say it. “Um … okay. Just don’t jump to any conclusions. It – It is someone that we know.”

Her parent’s eyes widened. “Is he a friend of the family? Or customer perhaps? I wonder who it could be.” Tom thought long and hard and Sabine merely smiled at her husband.

“No – I bet it’s someone from her university.” Alya guessed. “Was it that really cute guy I set you up on a date with?”

“Alya … my parents didn’t need to know about that. And no, it’s not a friend of our family’s, per say and he isn’t from my university.”

“But is he cute? Good looking? Please tell me he’s good looking!” Alya pleaded.

“Alya. My parents are still here, remember.” Marinette groaned. Her parents laughed. They knew Alya’s antics well enough.

“Is he cute?” Alya pressed, crossing her arms, clearly impatient for an answer.

“Y-yes. He is.”

“How cute is cute? Rate from 1-10.”

“… 30.”

“Oh wow – you must have been swooning in his arms.”

“Somewhat, yes.” Marinette cringed. This couldn’t get any worse.

“What’s his day job? Does he work?” Sabine asked innocently.

Yup, this conversation could get a lot worse. She couldn’t hide the truth any longer.

“He’s … he’s a model.”

“Oh, that’s a relief … wait what?” Alya said flatly. Both her parents looked at her with wide eyes.

“He’s … a model?!” Sabine and Tom stared at their daughter, mirroring Alya’s shock.

Marinette decided if she was going to be fed to the sharks, she might as well do it thoroughly.

“Not only is he an exceptionally handsome model, really tall, and an incredible dancer … he happens to have blonde hair and very, nice green eyes.”

“This model …” Sabine began but Tom completed her sentence before she could finish.

“He wouldn’t happen to be the one that left for America would it?”

Marinette nodded.

“Does this model have a father who happens to be a very famous fashion designer?” Sabine added.

Marinette nodded again.

“Is this the same model that you could barely formulate a comprehensible sentence in front of because you were too busy falling head over heels for him, whilst we were in school.” Alya asked.

“Unfortunately … yes.” Marinette said quietly.

Her parents said nothing. Alya said nothing. She said nothing. The silence was deafening, yet no one dared to say his name out loud. Yet it was Alya the unbearable broke the silence.

“Well … you’re f*cked.”

\-----

“I cannot believe you swore in front of my parents!” Marinette groaned; face buried in her pillow.

“Well how was I to know you’d be Latin dry humping with the crush you never got over – no, with the only guy you never stopped being in love with?” Ayla shrugged nonchalantly.

“Stop calling it dry humping, body grinding, foreplay, dirty dancing, stripping without taking actual items of clothing off, an open invite for some kinky time in a back room, and whatever else that mind of yours thinks!” Marinette grimaced, peeking up from her pillow, blushing madly.

Alya was lounging on the chaise, wearing a pair of Marinette’s pajamas. Both of them were ready for bed. They had had dinner, brushed their teeth and watched a movie but it was already ten at night, and that meant a serious best friend talk on Alya’s part.

“I can stop saying them. Doesn’t mean I can't stop thinking about it.”

“You’re terrible.”

“But seriously girl. Think about it. Considering the style of Latin dance you do, you do realise the first time you just happen to meet Adrien, the love of your life after how many years of barely any contact … and you ‘sexy’ dance with him.”

“I know! You don’t have to remind me.”

“How did you not pass out, or hyperventilate … or throw up on him. At the very least I expected you to trip and fall flat on your face.”

“Believe me. Nervous didn’t even cut it when I realised what we were about to do. I was petrified. I literally couldn’t move, let alone say something without stuttering like an idiot.”

“Then how did you do it?”

Marinette sat up, looking at her friend from her bunk bed, unsure on how she could answer.

“Well … I was really nervous. Not just with him. But the fact that the other two girls that had gotten in were incredible and I kept comparing myself. So with that, and knowing I was going to ‘dance the sexy’ with the Adrien Agreste, most gorgeous and talented model and the most amazing person to have ever existed … only worsened by predicament.”

“So – how did you dance? You said that Julio wanted you two, to partner up together, that you were really good with each other.”

“I – I couldn’t do anything first. It was … it was Adrien that helped me.” Marinette said quietly, looking at her hands.

“Adrien? How so?”

“He told me to close my eyes. To ignore everyone else.”

Her best friend snorted. “Kinky.”

“Oh stop it! I’m trying to be serious here. He asked me to close my eyes so I wouldn’t have to look at the other dancers.”

“Well that’s great an all but how did you not trip? Knowing the kind of person you are, wouldn’t you end up falling over regardless if you have sight or not?”

“I was really scared about that too, but since I had my eyes closed, I had no choice but to trust Adrien. Despite him being, well him, having my eyes closed, I had to trust him to lead me, and to hold me as we danced. The more I trusted him, I guess, I suppose I let the music simply move me. I got more confident, and more comfortable with being with him in that situation. It made it easier at the beginning to have my eyes closed.”

“So … do any sexy moves against him.” Alya grinned, wagging her eyebrows.

Marinette on the other hand blushed as she gave a scowl. “What do you think?”

“Well knowing you – you probably were too embarrassed by the idea of shaking your booty up against his groin … wait … why are you blushing like that … OH MY GOD, MARI! YOU DID!” Alya squealed jumping up and down on the chaise.

Marinette buried her face in her hands. “You are way to excited about this. And I couldn’t help it. One, his hands encouraged me to body roll against him … two, my hips moved all on their own, I couldn’t help it. When I dance, it’s like, I don’t know how to do anything else.”

“Oh I’m sure, it was a simple – ‘I only become a sex goddess whenever I dance for a certain someone else, or rather, against someone else.”

“You are impossible, I hope you know that.”

“But seriously though – ”

“That’s a first.” Marinette muttered.

“Ha ha. No, seriously, you’re going to keep dancing with him.”

“I – I agreed to. He’s, he’s an amazing partner. I don’t know. Whenever I social dance, it’s nice to be swept away by the music. But a lot of the times I have to think about how I dance, my technique and such. With Adrien … I didn’t need to think. It felt so easy to dance with him, I was comfortable with dancing him, once the nerves somewhat dissipated.”

“Wow, Mari – I’m actually a little stunned. You wouldn’t have said this when we were fifteen. You wouldn’t even have considered even slow dancing with Adrien. Bachata has actually made you confident.” Her best friend said.

Marinette rolled her eyes.

“No – not with people Marinette, with yourself.”

“Huh?”

“You’ve always had confidence when we were in school. Like when you were student representative and president. But you always needed someone else to support you, to remind you that you had that confidence, that you could do things, but only when someone else believed in you.”

Marinette thought about it. Alya was right about that. She believed she could do things, that she could be an incredible designer because she had her parents support. She believed she could be true to her goals because she knew she had Alya to back her up. Heck, even when she was Ladybug, she only kept going because she had Tiki … even Chat Noir believed in her, despite his excessive amount of flirting, which she actually missed. She kept social dancing because her Latin dance friends had encouraged her to keep going, to keep learning. But the longer and more she learned, her confidence to grew. She didn’t quite know how to describe it. She walked differently now, held herself differently, standing to full height with her shoulders back, head raised ever so slightly to come across as strong. She met people’s gazes with determination whenever she talked with them, not just when she danced. She trusted herself now with various tasks and decisions; since she had grown so used to trusting her own instincts whenever she was taken to the dance floor. It was true – Bachata had actually made her more confident and she hadn’t even realised it.

“And the fact you told me you were able to have a proper conversation with Adrien over coffee afterwards, just proves that this whole dirty-dancing thing is a really good thing.” Alya continued.

“I told you to stop calling it dirty-dancing.” She growled.

Alya merely stuck her tongue out.

“Though I am curious on to why Adrien Agreste is back in France. Do you know?”

Marinette’s mind flashed with the painful images of Adrien’s miserable face when he told her the truth to why he was in Paris; his gilded-cage of a life back in America, the struggle of becoming independent after years of a sheltered life, leaving a loveless father’s dreams behind and never looking back … changing his name.

“Rousseau.” Marinette said softly.

“Hmmm – what was that?”

“Rousseau. His name is Rousseau.”

“Whose he?”

“Adrien.”

“The only Adrien I know is Adrien Agreste.”

“Not anymore.”

“You’re not making any sense here.”

“It’s not really my story to tell.”

“Okay – now that’s just mean.”

“Sorry, it’s up to Adrien. I can’t tell you something if it’s not mine to tell.”

“Still mean but I respect that.”

Marinette sighed, stretching out on the bed. “I’m exhausted. I need to sleep.”

“It’s only 10:30.”

“And unlike you, I’ve been holding splits and back bends for hours on end today. My body is screaming at me to close my eyes.”

Alya rolled her eyes. “Fine wench. We can talk more in the morning.”

“By morning that means – if you wake me up earlier than 8:30 on a weekend, I will not be afraid to commit Alya-cide.”

“Fine. I’ll start pestering you at 8:45.”

Marinette tucked herself in and made herself comfortable, whilst Alya pulled a blanket over her, as she settled into the chaise.

“Night, Alya.”

“Night, Mari.”

And Mari switched off the bedroom light, burying the room in darkness.


	10. Is It Wrong To Feel Beautiful?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

Alya had pestered her the next morning about a possible ‘chance encounter’ as she had put it, with Adrien again. Not wanting her friend present at any of their intimate dance practices, just yet, she could only promised her friend with a simple ‘soon’.

After breakfast, Alya left so Marinette could help her parents in the bakery. There were several birthday orders and a few wedding cakes that had to be decorated and sent. Marinette loved decorating, it helped her think about things and allowed her to stay creative. And seeing her designs, her intricate delicate pieces being appreciated by the customers that bought her family’s cakes, filled her with pride. But today she couldn’t stand as she decorated. She woke up so sore; she could barely crawl out of bed. She hadn’t even found the strength to climb down the ladder of her bunk bed; Alya had had to help her down, despite Marinette’s embarrassment. It was only then she realised she practically needed help to get down the stairs of her attic bedroom, so she could get to the bathroom. Alya had run her a hot bath and Marinette soaked in the warm water, allowing he muscles to loosen until she felt somewhat human once again.

Sitting on a stool, she was just finishing off a batch of angel cupcakes, dusting them with soft white sugar powder. Her mother was at the cash register, manning the storefront whilst her father was busy in the bakery, handing her more cakes and cookies to decorate. Her I-pod lay quietly on the small table she was working on, playing her favourite Bachata songs, and she couldn’t help but move her feet along to the music. Despite the ache in her leg muscles, Marinette couldn’t stop dancing whenever she hear the familiar steady beat. She simply just had to dance, even from her chair.

Someone came into the bakery. She heard the doorbell ring. Marinette would have gone in to see if her mother needed any help, but she was honestly too sore to move.

“Marinette – someone’s here to see you.” Her mother peeked around the door, smiling.

Marinette groaned as she struggled to get up. She was sorely tempted to take another bath after work, or at least do some yoga in her room.

“I’m coming Maman. Who is it?”

Her mother gave her a wink, before she nodded to the person next to her, hidden behind the door.

“Hey Marinette.” Adrien smiled, walking in.

And Marinette fell of her stool, landing on the floor with an ugly bump.

\-----

Marinette was busy holding an ice pack to her sore tailbone, wanting nothing more than to sink into the floor in shame. After several stuttering and embarrassed speeches later, she had practically given up trying to save face, and just accepted the cold ice pack Adrien offered her thirty minutes ago.

“Sorry – Marinette. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

No, I’m just the biggest idiot in the history of all idiots; Marinette cringed internally.

“It’s not your fault, I’m just such a klutz. But you didn’t have to help me finish off all of those cakes.”

“It was the least I can do after you fell off of that chair. And you got things done much faster.”

The two of them were sitting in Marinette’s living room, her mum had left her some Chinese tea and chocolate and vanilla cookies for them. Adrien eyed the plate, smirking slightly.

“You can’t have milk chocolate cookies I see, what will the milk-chocolate babies think of you.” Adrien teased lightly.

Despite her previous mortification, Marinette couldn’t help but laugh. “Then they’re going to have to deal with my elitist ways. Please, take one.”

“Thank you for the tea.”

Marinette gave a shy smile, sipping the bitter liquid from the porcelain cup.

“I take it you’re still sore from yesterday?”

Marinette chuckled sheepishly, “I’m not used to holding positions for that long. Performance technique is so different to social dancing.”

“You get used to it.”

“I’m actually not too bad now. I’m sore but not nearly as stiff. So I’ll be able to practice some of the steps we did in class yesterday, just a lot more slowly than usual.”

“Speaking of classes and performances, that’s why I came by to see you. Have you checked your emails yet?”

Marinette shook her head. “Not yet. I haven’t been upstairs to do personal things since this morning. We had a lot of orders.”

“That’s okay. Julio just sent us an email discussing our first performance.”

Marinette choked on her tea. “Wait – what? Already?”

Adrien nodded, “There’s going to be a Latin Culture Festival - you know the Annual Ball, Anna was talking about? It's going to be held at the Arc de Triomphe in less than two months or so and he wants us and the other couples to come up with our own choreographies and perform them … with his assistance an input of course.”

“I – I’ve never choreographed anything in my life!”

Adrien shrugged, “I’ve done a little choreography, not a lot, but I think it will be enough to come up with a decent routine. I just wanted to know if you’d be okay with performing. Julio wants us to but it’s still optional.”

Adrien looked at her curiously wondering if she would say yes. Marinette knew her answer. She had committed to this and she couldn’t back down now.

“I … yes … I still want to perform. I wouldn’t have auditioned otherwise. But can we come up with a routine during that time.”

Her dance partner gave her a reassuring smile. “Of course. I’m sure we can. I’ll give Julio a text saying you’re willing to participate. Since we are, he’ll also want to know the kind of music we plan on dancing to. That way when we start coming up with a routine he can help us create a choreography that really reflects the mood we want to bring in our dance.”

“Uh … is there a particular song you like?” Marinette honestly couldn’t choose herself; she liked different songs for different reasons. She danced to certain ones depending on how she felt.

“Difficult to choose really – I guess it depends on my favourite atmosphere but it changes from time to time. What do you think?”

Choosing a song would be difficult. “We – we don’t have to be set on the song right now, I hope.”

“Preferably a choice between two, no more than three.”

Marinette thought, putting the ice pack down on the table. Her tailbone and her dignity had somewhat healed. “Well, I guess we can do a dance that reflects on why we like Bachata so much. Just an idea.”

“Like a reflection on how we feel – a showcase of why we love the style so much?” Adrien asked raising an eyebrow.

Marinette nodded.

“Interesting idea – but hard to convey. I mean, people like Bachata for different reasons. And that reasoning will affect our song choice.”

“Exactly, so, it can be a personal expression. This, after all, is our choreography. We can showcase what Bachata feels like to us whenever we dance it, showing the style to audiences in a new light.”

Adrien thought for a moment. Then he smiled. “You know what. I actually like it.”

Marinette rubbed her hands nervously, “It was just a suggestion – we don’t have to do it. I mean; the idea is a little abstract.”

“But possible from the way you’ve put it. I guess all we need to do is figure out why we dance Bachata – what do we like or love about it, why, and how we plan on conveying what we love about Bachata to an audience.”

“You first?” she offered, nibbling on a vanilla biscuit.

“Your idea – you first.”

Marinette blushed, scratching the back of her head. There was a reason for why she kept learning Bachata, why she loved it so much.

“I – my reasoning for liking it so much is a little embarrassing. I feel like I’m going to reveal something really awkward.” She muttered.

“I’m sure it can’t be that bad.” Adrien laughed, evergreen eyes gentle.

“Really – I’m beginning to think this choreography concept is a bad idea – I’m practically confessing something about myself.” Marinette cringed. She had already been embarrassed once today. She didn’t want to go for broke.

“Oh yeah – try me.” Adrian raised an eyebrow once more, giving her a slight smile as he leaned back into the sofa.

“Just … just don’t laugh at me when I say this.”

“I wouldn’t ever laugh at someone like you, Marinette, but I promise not to.”

Marinette took a deep breath.

“Okay – I dance Bachata because … because whenever I dance with someone, I feel beautiful.” She said quickly, covering her face with both hands.

Adrien said nothing for a moment. Then he gave a soft snort.

“Wait … that’s what you’re embarrassed about?” he asked.

She peeked at him through her spread fingers. He looked at her with curious eyes. At least he wasn’t laughing at her and she sighed with relief.

“Isn’t that embarrassing? I mean, I practically admitted to saying I only ever feel beautiful when I happen to be dancing possibly one of the spiciest and most risqué Latin dances in the history of all mankind. I’ve just admitted that as Alya likes to put it ‘Latin foreplay on hardwood’ makes me feel wanted, and that for a few moments I feel as if I’m the most beautiful girl in the world, that I feel confident, that I can trust not only myself but someone I know whose going to hold me like they actually care about me, if only for a few minutes …”

It was only then Marinette realised what she just said, and she gave a frustrated groan, once again hiding her face in her hands.

“Please forget I said any of that.” She pleaded quietly. She had successfully made another fool of herself.

“Why are you saying it like it’s a bad thing?” He said quietly.

“I – wait, what?” she looked back at him in surprise. He was smiling. He was in fact, genuinely confused at her embarrassment.

“Okay – maybe the whole ‘foreplay on hardwood’ is a bit extreme. You can easily find body grinding of that caliber at a seedy night club.” Adrien laughed quietly, but he wasn’t teasing her.

Marinette cocked her head to the side, uncertain.

“Listen, you feeling beautiful and feeling wanted isn’t bad, Marinette.” Adrien said softly, “Believe me – there were times I wish I felt wanted. But having someone that makes you feel like that shouldn’t be a bad thing.”

“Most might think I’m desperately craving for a guy to touch me, let alone hold me.” Marinette mumbled more to herself than to Adrien.

“I don’t think that should be something you should be ashamed about, wanting to be held by someone else, to have someone else think you’re beautiful? I think you become a beautiful person when you dance. I’ve only ever danced with you once and I already think you’re beautiful to watch as well as dance with.”

Marinette blushed even brighter than she had before, heart hammering in her chest. He wasn’t supposed to hear that … wait. Did Adrien just say she was beautiful?!

“What?!” she squeaked.

“Marinette – you have nothing to be embarrassed about. If that’s how you feel whenever you dance with someone then that’s okay.”

“I – I … gosh, this whole things is really cheesy and embarrassing.” Marinette looked away, biting her lower lip.

“Perhaps … but then again, you’re being honest. And I like that.”

Marinette glanced at the man sitting beside her, who gave her a reassuring smile and her heart fluttered.

“Th-thanks, Adrien. You’re the first person that’s really understood me on this.”

Adrien shrugged slightly, “I guess it’s because I understand where you’re coming from. I mean, yes the dance style is incredibly provocative, but provocative isn’t necessarily full on grinding or groping. Sexy can also be romantic I guess, and this style kind of plays along the lines of both. And when it comes to dancing, it all comes down to consent. Trusting your partner to let them touch, hold and move you or trusting that person that they have given you permission to do so, reflects not only the intimacy of the couples that are dancing but their complete utter dependence on one another. Allowing yourself to be in that situation, which not a lot of people see whenever they watch Bachata for the first time, is not only a difficult thing to overcome, it can also be beautiful thing. Bachata is far more romantic, far more sensual and far more tasteful than what people assume.”

“I – I completely agree with you, there.” Marinette smiled, and he returned it.

“So why do you like it, Adrien.” She asked, “Your turn to reveal after all.”

Marinette’s eyes widened a little when Adrien looked away, green eyes suddenly turning sheepish as pink dusted his cheeks. Was her beautiful model dance partner blushing?

“For the same reason as you. Well not the fact I personally feel beautiful, but because I can make someone else feel like they are … and that I feel wanted, even if just for a moment.”

“Oh.” Was all she could say.

Neither of them spoke, both of them bashful over their confessions, as their unfinished tea was left to cool.

“We really are cheesy.” Marinette said, trying to lighten the mood.

“The cheesiest …” Adrien chuckled agreeing with her.

“So music-wise, I was thinking, perhaps we choose a song that’s a little slower than the faster more technical ones.” She suggested. “What do you think?”

“Leaning towards more the romantic ‘sensual’ Bachata. Have you done ‘sensual’ Bachata before?”

Marinette blushed, “Only socially – but yeah, I’m familiar. I’m fairly good at it so as long as my partner practically tells me what to do.”

Adrien gave a breathtaking grin, “That’s what I’m here for. Any song ideas or language preferences?”

“If we’re going to go with Spanish, the melody has to be very calming. No one’s going to pay attention to lyrics they won’t understand but they’ll listen to the music. Any popular remix songs, we have to be careful of the lyrics; we can’t have a song that doesn’t reflect what we’re trying to portray but we don’t want to be blatantly obvious.”

Adrien thought for a moment, before taking out his I-phone. “I wrote a list down, categorizing songs so we could choose more easily. What do you think of this song?”

And he pressed play on his phone.

Music filled the small living room space and Marinette’s ears were gently caressed with a soft calming melody. She knew this song. Already she began picturing herself on the dance floor, wanting nothing more than the music to guide her, as she began to unconsciously sway to the beat.

“Soy El Mismo, by Prince Royce. I – I love this song.”

“It’s one of my favourites too.” He said quietly, standing up.

Marinette looked up at him confusion. But then he held out a hand.

“I know you’re probably still stiff from yesterday but I have to ask: may I have this dance, Marinette?”

Marinette stared into beautiful evergreen eyes and even more beautiful face that made her heart beat erratically in her chest. She didn’t say anything, fearing any sentence from her mouth would be a garbled incomprehensible mess. So she did the only thing she could do.

She accepted his hand, and he pulled her up from the couch, letting him take her into a closed-position hold. Her left hand connected with his shoulder whilst his right went to her waist and up her back, pulling her close, their free hands intertwining.

In the small space of Marinette’s living room, they began to sway and step to the beat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the song that Adrien and Marinette were dancing to, another one of my favourites: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ihQQSB-R18o


	11. Chat’s Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

Like before, it felt so easy to dance with him. Granted they didn’t have too much space to move around as freely as they would have liked, and Marinette’s muscles were screaming at her to stop. But she couldn’t help it. Despite any discomfort physically or emotionally whenever she found herself at a loss for words, dancing with him felt so familiar, so comforting. She couldn’t understand the juxtaposition in that. This was the man she hadn’t been able to form a coherent sentence in front of, the same one she fell in love with when they were still at school – she still was in love with him. A simple glance or a slight smile had her blushing into awkward stuttering mess. But dancing with him like this had never felt more natural. 

Adrien suddenly moved to the side, giving a firm push to her body and Marinette giggled when she side-swayed, her hair flying, as she cocked her leg up around his waist.

Adrien laughed with her, spinning the two of them in a circle, both of them lost in the music, comfortable and content.

That was until they heard the sound of a camera shutter.

“Oh my god!” she chuckled. “This is so going on my new blog.”

Both of them froze, green and blue eyes widening as they snapped their heads to the front door of Marinette’s apartment. 

Alya was leaning casually against the doorframe holding her camera-phone. The biggest smirk was plastered on her face, as hazel eyes glinted mischievously behind her black-framed glasses.

“Alya! How long have you been standing there?!” Marinette shrieked, scrambling to pull away from Adrien, quiet forgetting one of her legs was wrapped around his waist. Rather than step back from him, she only proceeded to pull him forward, the sudden weight shift causing them both to stumble.

Alya could barely contain her glee as she watched her best friend and her best friend’s crush plummet to the floor in an ungraceful fall, only for them to land in a tangled heap of limbs, with a hard thud. 

“Oh yeah – I’m so using this as black mail material.” 

Alya quickly snapped the scene in front of her, saving the picture to her ‘favourites’. The image of Adrien lying on top of her friend, body pressed right in between her thighs, whilst the two of them stared at each other in complete mortification and extreme embarrassment was too good to miss.

“So, how are you going, Adrien?” Alya said casually, strolling into the room and sitting down on one of the free living room chairs. 

“You two comfortable down there?”

The two of them quickly got up from the floor the tension and the humiliation so evident on their faces. Alya had never seen anyone blush as hard as Marinette, (or Adrien come to think of it), that very moment.

“Don’t mind me – please, continue that ‘sexy foreplay’ you were doing. I’m just here to record it and post it up on all of social media for the world to see.” Alya giggled.

“Alya – I swear … !” Marinette fumed, unable to finish her sentence. Adrien could only look at the floor, unable to say a word. Alya merely laughed as she grabbed herself a chocolate cookie.

\----- 

“Ughhh! Tiki! Sometimes Alya is so – ” Marinette groaned, flopping onto her bed.

“I understand …” Tiki said patting her chosen’s head. “But I’m proud of you Marinette.”

“For what?” she asked her kwami.

“You’re actually getting more confident around Adrien, you’re able to hold a conversation, thanks to your mutual interests in dancing. Especially when you were discussing your first solo performance.”

“I – I guess. Um, thanks Tiki.”

“You still feel nervous around him?”

“Yeah. I mean – it’s still Adrien. I don’t think I’ll ever truly feel normal around him.”

“But what about when you dance with him?”

“One – that isn’t a ‘normal’ circumstance. It’s not like we’re striking up a conversation or anything Tiki. But, dancing with him, I don’t know, it just feels so natural. It’s so easy to lose myself in the music and the dance. And he’s such an amazing partner. The fact that he’s able to make me forget who I’m actually dancing with, helps too.”

“Wow – and you’ve only danced with him twice.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Tiki flitted to Marinette’s shoulder, perching on it. 

“So if you’re performing, does that mean you get to wear one of those really pretty costumes? Ah – are you going to make it?” Tiki asked excitedly.

“Oh – I never thought about that. I will have to get a costume. I’ll worry more about that, closer to the performance date. But then again, I can’t wear my practice leotard, or normal clothing. As for making it … I don’t think I’ve ever made a dance costume before. Clothing and dramatic costumes for university and side projects for fun, but nothing anything like that.”

“It has to be red. Red and black perhaps, for Ladybug. Wait, no white! White with really intricate beading. You look so lovely in white!”

Marinette thought for a moment. “How about pink, since it’s red and white put together.”

Tiki’s eyes lit up. “Pink! Pink would be perfect on you!”

“Fine, Pink it is.”

Marinette looked out at her skylight. It was an exceptionally clear night, the white stars as bright as the crescent moon that illuminated her bedroom and made her dark hair shine, silver. She had left the window open, a soft cool breeze fanning her face. Outside she could hear the sound of car horns, and the chatter of people. It was the sound of a city alive and thriving, and it beckoned her.

She sighed longingly.

“Marinette.” Tiki said disapprovingly. “You’re not fit to patrol tonight, your muscles are too sore for it after yesterday and this morning.”

“I’m alright now Tiki! I’m no longer sore or stiff. I did all that yoga and I took a hot bath afterwards to keep my muscles loose, and I also did some light stretching after that.” Marinette pleaded.

“Marinette – you could hurt yourself, strain a part of your body like your arm or leg, perhaps twist your foot or hurt your hand. You have to stay in a fit condition if you want to continue dancing let alone your creative studies.”

“Please Tiki, I haven’t patrolled in several weeks now. I’ll take it slow. Nothing excessive or too strenuous. I promise.”

Tiki frowned, then sighed. “Remember,” she warned, “I’m able to sense if your miraculous is putting to much pressure on your body and I can easily de-transform if I feel you’re putting to much on yourself.”

“I promise not to do anything I can’t cope. I just want to look at the city as Ladybug again. I really miss it.”

The kwami sighed. “Alright – but nothing too strenuous.”

Marinette gave a wide smile, her blue eyes glowing in the moonlight.

“Tiki! Spots on!”

\----- 

Somewhat true to her word, Marinette hadn’t done anything too exerting for her body; nothing that she wasn’t capable of dealing with. She had stuck to the rooftops, jumping, leaping and occasionally somersaulting over the chimney-stacks, as she surveyed her home for any danger. Tonight was peaceful so far. And from atop the Eiffel Tower, perched precariously on one of the railings, with nothing but her instinct (and yoyo to catch her) if she fell, she felt completely at home, looking over her beloved city. Up in the sky, free as if she were flying, was where she belonged.

“My Lady looks so puuur-fectly stunning in the moonlight, this evening.” He said to her. She felt him crouch down next to her.

Ladybug felt her chest ache, a smile gracing her lips. How long had it been since she heard his voice?

“More puns, kitty?” She said, softly teasing him.

He gave a chuckle. “Only for you my lady.”

She turned and enveloped her partner in a tight hug, which he was all too happy to return. They stayed like that for several minutes, simply enjoying the closeness of each other’s company again. Having to deal without a partner for almost three years had hurt her more than she realised. It had taken a long time for her to get used to working alone, to find a way to distract herself from the emptiness. She had missed his presence, his confidence, his stealth, his constant reassurance, even his flirty puns. She had missed her partner so much. 

Finally she pulled away and she laughed when her green cat eyes were sad, and an extra pair of extendable ears, drooped.

“How long have you been in Paris, Chat Noir?” she asked him, leaning back against the metal grill. He joined her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, so she could rest against him.

“Just recently. I’ve been in Paris for a couple of months now.”

Ladybug frowned. “That long.”

“I should have seen you sooner but … there were some personal things in my civilian life that had to be dealt with. I needed to take care of that first. But from what I’ve seen, Paris has been kept safe in your very dependable and talented hands, LB.”

“But of course.” She gave her friend and impish grin, which he immediately returned.

She ruffled his golden hair, the soft strands, like silk as she scratched behind his ear, his real ear. And Chat purred into the touch.

“Such a kitty. I wonder if you purr like this in your civilian form.”

“Meowch, my lady.”

“What have you been up to since you left?”

Chat shrugged. “A little of this, and a little of that. Moved over seas, as you know. Didn’t enjoy it so I came back here. How about you?”

“University. Casual work at a café. The usual.”

Chat’s eyes were suddenly curious, glinting a peculiar but fascinating hue that shifted from green to white in the light of the moon. “No spark? No flame has captured my lady’s heart.”

Marinette blushed, thankful her mask his some of her embarrassment, when her thoughts were filled with images of Adrien Agre- … Adrien Rousseau. “None of your business, kitty.”

“Your face says otherwise. Who is the man I have to challenge for my lady’s love?” He said in mock gallantry, his grin flirty. But his eyes were troubled.

“If I gave you his name, how do I know you’re not going to scare him off?” His Lady retorted.

“Fine – I won’t pry.”

Ladybug leaned back watching Paris below her as her partner lie his head in her lap, looking for a head scratch. She winced slightly from the contact, her thigh muscles tensing from the contact. Perhaps she was more sore, than she realised.

“I apologise my lady – are you in pain?” Chat asked immediately moving his head away, his face suddenly concerned. But she smiled reassuringly, carefully bringing his head back down.

“Civilian activities, that’s all. Really stiff from yesterday. But I needed to get out.”

Ladybug, gently stroked Chat’s golden locks, illuminated soft white by the moon. Chat shut his eyes and gave a content smile, a low purr, rumbling in his throat. He stretched out, getting comfortable.

“Just don’t fall asleep like you did the last time we did this. We don’t want to leave with barely five minutes of changing back.”

“Then you’re going to have to wake me. There’s no way I’m going to try to stay awake.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine kitty. Close your eyes then.”

“As my lady says.”


	12. Damsel In A Dress Or Dancer In Distress?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

Come Sunday, Marinette found herself very busy sketching new ideas for another class. Throughout her university years so far, she often wondered how she of all people managed to stay focused on her work, balancing not only her civilian life and the life of a superhero, but multiple university projects and deadlines all at once. Then again, Marinette had a talent for being exceptionally studious, hardworking and dedicated to whatever task or activity she was given and worked very well under pressure. Since her life as Ladybug, assessment deadlines seemed fairly mild compared to some of the akumas she had fought. 

Thankfully, her major coursework for the semester, was almost complete, an evening dress for the summer, inspired by a ballerina’s costume. The off-white tulle skirt fell just below the knee in several floaty layers of soft mesh fabric whilst the under-skirt, was made of pink silk. The strapless bodice had a sweetheart neckline, not too low cut but enough to give the overall dress a demure but coquettish and cheeky aesthetic. The dress was also covered in thousands of purple, lilac and soft pink appliqué, cut in the shapes of petals, leaves and delicate butterfly wings, sprinkled over the fabric as if they had simply dusted the dress and lay wherever they had fallen. It had taken Marinette hours of pain staking patience and many pricked fingers to sew on each one carefully. And finally the dress had been caught at the waist by a forest green sash made of a thicker satin, making the dress fresh and more appealing to the eye. The dress was young, flirty and feminine; it reflected her style. This design was all Marinette’s. 

Marinette just needed to sew on a few more butterflies and flower petals to the lower skirts, randomizing the pattern of the appliqué, but her hands were already pricked and cut to oblivion. She needed to take a break from her dress. Instead, she added more research, photo evidence and design development to her design portfolio, before quickly typing out a draft of her final artist statement for her project. She had already completed a majority of her final presentation too. In short, by the mid-afternoon she had accomplished a great deal. She stretched out onto her chair, rolling her head to relieve some of the tension in her neck.

Tiki flitted to Marinette’s shoulder. “The dress is so beautiful Marinette, and I’m so happy you took the risk of adding the bright green into the colour scheme. It reminds me of a spring-day, your dress.”

“It needed more than just the pink and purple colour scheme: a sweet dress but with an unexpected and flirtatious colour to a look that’s incredibly feminine.” Her chosen commented, giving a smile as Tiki nuzzled her cheek.

“Your portfolio is looking wonderful! You’ve done so much work already.”

“It’s been tedious but it makes my project structurally sound.”

“And you’ve done a good portion of your presentation already too.”

“Hmmm, it’s almost finished. I just have to add a few more slides and update some information on a couple of others.”

Tiki gave a happy laugh. “You’re so organised Marinette! You’ve done so much in such a short space of time and have worked so hard to get what you have done, pretty much finished.”

“If only I was organised with my ordinary social life …” Marinette muttered more to herself, as she gently pulled the hair ties from her hair, letting the raven strands loose. She brushed out her hair with her fingers, now longer than it had been since she was fifteen. It fell past her shoulders and it just reached her chest.

“Are you going to take a break now? You’ve been working so hard.” Tiki asked her.

Marinette shook her head. “I’ve got to work on sketching designs for my Costumes Elective. I have to have a solid idea ready for presentation next week.”

“But you’ve been working all day!” Tiki protested, “At least take ten minutes off. Get something to eat. Or at least go outside for some fresh air. You’ve been stuck in your room the entire day.”

Marinette smiled, picking up her elective sketchbook and her pencil case. “Hence why I’m going to draw outside on my balcony.”

It didn’t take long for Marinette to settle comfortably on the small deck chair her parents had placed outside along with the possibly even smaller deck table. There was just enough room for her sketchbook, the pencil case having to sit on her lap as she drew. Her kwami perched on the railing of the balcony, nibbling on a cookie as her chosen made one design after the other.

“So what’s the project? What do you have to create, Marinette?”

“We have to create a costume that’s meant to be worn and then ‘physically’ used in a dance performance of our choice. When I mean physically, we have to find someone not only to model it, but dance in it too. So I’ll need video evidence of the creation process, like test trials showing the model in the costume so I can see what areas have to be improved on, as well as the moment when the final costume is worn and used by the dancer.”

“Oh! That sounds exciting! You actually have a client you have to design for. Is there a theme?”

Marinette scoffed as she chewed on the end of her pencil thoughtfully. 

“I had to get the hardest theme to design for, as well as the easiest. ‘Romance’ or ‘Love’ was my design theme.”

Tiki’s eyes widened, in excitement. “But Marinette! That’s an easy topic. How is it difficult when there are so many possibilities for a wonderful costume?”

“That’s just the problem, Tiki. There are too many ideas that come to my head. It’s going to be hard to narrow it down. That and I have to choose the most appropriate dance performance style to suit that theme. Keep in mind this is a dance costume, not a theatrical or a dramatic costume for a play. I’ve done theatre costumes but this is my first time designing something strictly suitable for dancing.”

“Hmmm … what about ballet. Ballet is very theatrical it’s technically a play, which focuses on using dance to tell the story as opposed to words and acting. How about basing a costume similar to ballet’s like ‘Giselle’ or ‘The Sleeping Beauty’?” Tiki suggested.

“I was going to do that but my tutor wants me to push boundaries. He said ballet was the ‘safe’ option since there are plenty of ballet’s out there that revolve around romantic plotlines, thus creating a costume that reflects that romance will be too ‘easy’ for me.”

“Push boundaries? So – choose a completely unorthodox dance style?”

Marinette nodded. “I have to choose a dance style you wouldn’t expect to be ‘romantic’ or look ‘romantic’. Like hip-hop, tap dance or swing. Those dance styles are more fun, energetic and lively. And the costumes for those styles, I have know idea how to incorporate a theme of ‘love’ into them.”

Tiki thought long and hard for a moment, finishing off the last of her cookie before flying down to the loose pieces of paper covered by drawings, concepts, patterns and scribbled notes. There were some dresses, some flowing skirts, some side skirts and shorts. She also saw the occasional leotard. Some were more ‘sporty’ than the others, better suited for more active dancing like b-boy, hip-hop and break dancing. Tiki giggled when she came across a red crop with black spots and black cargo pants, trimmed in red. 

But one design particularly caught her eye. Unlike the other sketches, the design was unfinished as she picked up the loose piece of paper to inspect it in more detail. The drawing seemed more of a doodle than anything else, roughly drawn. The basic foundation of the dress was a leotard, with long tight sleeves. From the quickly drawn lines, she assumed the dress was backless, or frontless. No, that wouldn’t have worked. Perhaps the dress had a plunging neckline. The leotard was also accompanied by an asymmetrical skirt that gathered into a multi-layered bustle at the top of the left hip. A scribbled note to the right indicated that the skirt could be undone, either by the performer or a dance partner, turning into a side train that fell past the knee, thus leaving the right side bare, exposing the lower half off the leotard.

“I really like this design.” Tiki said, holding the paper up to Marinette.

She took it and snorted. “That? How’d that get in there? This was an idea I scrapped ages ago. It’s not even meant for this project.”

“Well, what’s it for? There’s a lot of potential in this design.”

Her chosen gave an uncommitted shrug as she continued working on the designs in her sketchbook. “I was honestly just sketching an idea that had come into my head this morning, before I started working on my dress. It was supposed to be a potential design for my dance performance in two months.”

Tiki’s eyes lit up in realisation, an idea suddenly coming to her. “Marinette! Why not create a dance costume designed for a Bachata performance?”

Marinette found herself choking on her own spit. “What?! Are you crazy, Tiki? No! I can’t design that!” she protested, flailing slightly, as she internally cringed at the very thought of submitting something so blatantly provocative. 

“Why not?” her kwami asked. “It fits the category of a ‘dance performance costume’. And you said you had to have filmed evidence of the costume. Since the performance is around the same time of your submission deadline, you could film it, as well as the days you practice in costume, for development work.”

“The theme is ‘romance’, Tiki. Not … well, Bachata.” Marinette sighed, putting down her pencil and sketchbook.

“Didn’t you tell me that your performance with Adrien was going to focus on the more ‘romantic and tender’ side of Bachata? That you were going to showcase that there’s a fine line between love and sensuality and intimacy but with Bachata, that these concepts are one in the same?” Tiki argued gently, sitting quietly in front of her chosen.

“Tiki – this is university coursework. I can’t showcase and submit video evidence of me body rolling against another person … no matter how good looking he is.”

Tiki stared at her, fixing Marinette with an intense but sincere stare. “You said yourself that there’s so much more to Bachata than Alya’s … um, descriptive assumptions. You told me that Bachata; no, that being held and moved by someone in such a provocative situation is all dependent on trust and consent. Both are incredibly crucial towards whatever the bond or relationship people may have. You put yourself in a position where you have to be utterly dependent on the other person that is to lead your steps, to the point you almost feel vulnerable. But by trusting and giving your partner consent to guide your body, you allow yourself the freedom to be yourself, to accept that it’s okay to feel insecure but more importantly, it’s perfectly acceptable to feel beautiful, and wanted physically, even ‘sexually’ if just for a moment. The idea, the concept, seeing it actually unfold into something so intimate, tender, free, and alluring, between partners on a dance floor … How can anybody not see the ‘romance’ in that.“

“Tiki …”

“You and Adrien were going to showcase that in your performance proving to others that there’s so much more to this Latin dance style than what meets the eye. As for pushing boundaries, this project is the best opportunity to show that.”

“I don’t – “ Marinette began but Tiki interrupted her, her voice kind and assuring. 

“Why are you so apprehensive about this, Marinette? You shouldn’t feel bad or ashamed. Your tutors want you to challenge convention and traditional ideas. Take this moment to truly shine. Create this amazing dress. And dance to feel wanted; to feel absolutely breathtaking.” 

Not only had Tiki’s words comforted her, Marinette knew her kwami made a very valid point. Her reasoning and the entire concept of incorporating ‘romance’ into a very sensual and intimate Latin dance style, as well as the costumes used for it, made this the perfect costume idea project. The concept was solid. It pushed boundaries. She also was guaranteed a model for the video aspect of her project. She would be able to work around her schedules and be just as dedicated to the project as she was – herself. And to be perfectly honest, as much as she hated to admit it, she really wanted to see just how much this project would help her push her potential costume designs she had come up with, for her first Bachata performance. 

Gingerly, she took her design from Tiki.

“Okay, Tiki. I’ll do it.” And she gave her kwami a shy smile.


	13. His ‘Princess’ - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

It hadn’t taken her long to get her creative juices flowing. She had a solid concept and an actual purpose for her costume. Soon her pencil began to fly across the white pages of her sketchbook, patterns, shapes, ideas, colours for the fabric and quick notes manifesting before her eyes. She quickly saved inspiration photos on her phone, ready to be printed for later. Costume ideas became more tantalizing and seductive, as she explored with more form fitting shapes that exposed more flesh than she was used to. She drew single and two-piece suits, tight leggings paired with low plunging necklines and backless tops, or tight long sleeved tops paired with bikini bottoms. She played around with long skirts, asymmetrical skirts, short skirts, skirts without the front. Incorporating more risqué elements into the costume was a challenge; she still needed to keep the complete outfit elegant and tasteful as well as suggestive. On the side, she also kept in mind the various shades of pinks, purples, lilacs, crimsons, reds and even white; a promise she made to Tiki for opting to make a pink costume. The more she designed, the more she considered about designing a costume for Adrien, to complete the look. Marinette could only flush at the idea of having to take Adrien’s measurements, if she decided to go down that road.

As Marinette drew, she had completely forgotten the setting sun, which hung low in the sky, tinting the city a warm orange-red.

Unbeknownst to the young designer, a curious black cat had recently started watching her from one of the many rooftops. He had been patrolling the area, remembering the sights, the sounds and the smells he had missed so much since his time in America. He especially missed the delicious scent of freshly baked bread and other pastry delights that assaulted his senses, wafting from the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

He had only meant to pass by, a necessity when it came to patrolling. It had been three years since he last patrolled, but his duty to do so felt so familiar to him; even more so than breathing, as he surveyed Paris with constant determination and dedication.

But he hadn’t expected to find Marinette on her roof that evening, frantically drawing as if her life depended on it. Her blue eyes were furrowed by a frown of deep concentration, as she chewed the end of her pencil, between her full pink lips. And it took a good thirty minutes for Chat Noir to realise that he had been staring at raven-haired woman, whose hair flew loosely and free in a beautiful natural wave past her shoulders, which had grown longer since he last saw her.

Realising his mistake, Chat felt himself blush. He had a reason for being here; he had to patrol. But there she was, his favourite civilian, his ‘Princess; a mere reach from him. He hadn’t been thinking when he suddenly found himself somersaulting in mid-air, only to land softly on the roof of the Dupain-Cheng bakery, right in front of Marinette. She looked up from her sketching, her bright blue eyes that reminded him of sapphires, widened in surprise at her visitor.

“My purr-incess is looking particularly lovely this evening.” He grinned, the hint of his white fangs showing beneath his smile as he gave Marinette a deep bow.

He heard her sigh before giving a giggle. “Hello, chaton. When did you get back to Paris?”

“Oh, recently.” He gave a shrug.

“How’s Ladybug?” Marinette asked, though she already knew the answer to that one.

“My Lady is as purr-fect as ever. She’s kept the city and its civilians safe since I’ve been away; something I will be forever grateful for.”

“She – she’s been very good at ensuring Paris remains that way. But I’m certain she’s happy to have her partner back.”

Chat Noir could not agree more. “She’s protected Paris all on her own, without relying on others to aid her when she truly needs it. That’s nothing short of amazing.”

Marinette was thankful her sketchbook hid the slight blush that had tinged on her cheeks.

“And – she’s also kept my Princess safe from harms way.” Although she had tried to hide it, Chat could see the visible blush on Marinette’s freckled face, which only deepened at the last comment.

“Silly cat.” She muttered, eyes glancing shyly up at him.

Chat went over to her, perching quite comfortably on the railing.

“Now isn’t my Princess going to tell me just how much she missed me?” he mused.

“Urgh! Seriously, chat?” she groaned,

“Didn’t you miss my handsome good looks? My stellar company? How about my charm and my wit?”

“Nope – not at all. And I certainly didn’t miss your cattiness.” 

“My Princess! Was that a cat-pun?” Chat said, feigning shock as he brought up his hands to his mouth.

“Don’t test me, kitty.”

“And here I thought we were having a pleasant conversation.”

“My evening was pleasant until a certain cat decided to drop by.”

Chat’s shoulder’s tensed and he flinched. The last comment cut him more than it should have.

“If I’m bothering you, Marinette, I can leave.” He said quietly, green eyes suddenly pained at the thought of having to leave just for being a nuisance to her. His cat ears drooped against his head.

Marinette looked up from her sketchbook, guilt clouding her pretty blue eyes. Chat rarely called her by her real name – he only did so when something bothered him. Her annoyance towards his pet name for her had dimmed and she had actually grown very used to the nickname. So it worried he whenever he didn’t use it. With a shy hand she reached up, stroking the side of her companion’s cheek, as she watched him nuzzle for more contact, a low delighted purr, rumbling deep in his throat.

“I – you know I really don’t mean that, Chat. I’m sorry.” She apologised softly. “I enjoy having you here. I … I really missed you.”

And she did. Not just as Ladybug but as herself, as the ordinary girl he had protected and saved countless of times.

Chat took the hand that cupped his face into his own, kissing her fingers softly. “Marinette, you honour me.”

Marinette gave a smile. “Thank you for coming to see me this evening. And – and thank you for returning to Paris.”

Chat gave her a teasing grin, his beautiful green eyes gentle, “Nothing could keep me away from my favourite Princess.”


	14. His ‘Princess’ - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

Chat sat quietly by Marinette’s side, simply content with being in her presence. As he watched her draw, whilst his princess gave him the occasional ear or chin scratch, he fondly remembered the earlier days when he first began visiting her, on her balcony. 

Chat Noir had missed Marinette more than he anticipated, especially this side of her. Throughout school, Adrien had marveled at the strange and incredibly talented girl, whenever he encountered her as his superhero counterpart. It wasn’t as if Adrien wasn’t friends with Marinette by the time they were finishing high school, but her awkwardness and nervous state whenever he found himself in her presence made it difficult for him to truly get to know her better. She was always so hesitant, bashful and incredibly uncertain around him, a very pretty blush always staining her lightly freckled face.

Adrien had also missed Ladybug. How could he not? He was lost without his beautiful Lady, so brave, so confident, and so determined to keep Paris safe from akuma attacks. She was his partner after all, his most trusted friend, his true love. She was pure light to his darkness; she, ‘creation’ and he, ‘destruction’. His Lady was and always would be his only love; she had been the one that had completely stolen his heart and he would willingly let her steal it, over and over again.

But what he felt for Marinette was very different. He couldn’t deny a very strong affection for the girl who had sat behind him in class. Unlike Ladybug, a goddess of perfection in his eyes, Paris’s angel and most treasured beauty, Marinette was just a normal girl. She was by no means ordinary; there were so many qualities about her that made her everything but that. But she was still a normal girl; within reach, human, with needs, desires, fears and insecurities just like him. She was beautifully imperfect. And she was his friend. Chat could never learn more about his beloved Lady; she valued privacy and wanted to keep their identities secret for the sake of their safety as well as others. He respected that. 

But he knew his ‘Princess’; and he had come to learn so much more about her. And in their final years of school, Adrien would come to visit her almost every night. At first she had been surprised by his visits. But soon it became a routine, both of them enjoying each other’s company, their friendship slowly growing into something even Chat couldn’t quite recognise. There was something there; nothing to what he felt for Ladybug, but it was something. And Chat knew in his heart, if there was one civilian in the entire of France whom he would do absolutely anything to protect and to keep from harms way, it would be Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

As his alter ego, Adrien discovered Marinette’s behavior changed drastically, whenever in the presence of Chat Noir. As Chat, Marinette would physically converse with him, her demeanor far more relaxed and confident. He began to understand why she was so popular among the students at their school, her friendliness and her determination, admirable and heart-warming. More than that, she was comfortable being herself around his more feline form. Not only did she talk to him, she met his puns and his suave personality with her own flirty and witty comebacks; their banter playful, teasing, light-hearted … gentle. Marinette’s personality was the perfect mixture of sweet and spicy and she wasn’t afraid to show it, least of all to the stray alley cat that began to purposely change his patrol routes just so he could visit her.

Before he left for America, Chat would spend hours getting to know his sapphire-eyed princess; both of them talking about ordinary things, their interests and their dreams, and enjoying each other’s company. Unlike the others he had helped, he had grown exceptionally fond of the charming raven-haired girl, whose delightful smile brightened even the coldest and rainiest of evenings. Marinette was truly the only person he had missed the most, not just as Adrien but, as Chat Noir. He had gotten to know the girl with such a vivacious and beautiful personality and the kindest of hearts. And it saddened him that she had never shown him this side, when he had just been himself.

He had been more than surprised to see Marinette again in the most unlikely of circumstances. Adrien had been meaning to contact her as well as his Lady but getting back on his own two feet as well as soul-searching for himself, had taken longer than he would have wanted. The longer it took, the more guilty he felt for not contacting her the moment he got back to France, and she deserved far more than he had given when he left for America.

So when he walked into Latina á Paris, only to find none other than his princess, dancing so beautifully to the music she lost herself in, Adrien could only watch in awe. She had grown taller although not by much. She would always be shorter than him. She had always been slender and highly athletic, her frequent run-ins with ‘late referrals’ no matter how many times she raced the school bell, a constant fixture in his memory. But Adrien remembered her being incredibly clumsy, a complete contradiction towards her talent in P.E. and other athletic activities. Her awkwardness made he shy but she was still incredibly kind to others. Most of all, she was determined and fought for what she believed in, her passion for doing her best enough to inspire even the least motivated in their class to do the same. As for looks, Adrien had always found her lovely. He had been a fifteen-year old boy with the exceptional eyesight of a cat. How could he not see that she was a very attractive young lady? She had always been pretty, her Eurasian features a distinct, attractive and very charming quality that was quite popular amongst the male students, including his best friend Nino. He had also remembered how Marinette’s beautiful blue eyes, which seemed to shift shades depending on her mood, and they even rivaled in beauty to the same blue bell eyes of his Lady.

But seeing Marinette dance that afternoon, she had visibly changed in front of him. Her petite, slender build swayed gracefully to the music, moving as if she were lighter than air. Toned willow-like arms and long shaped legs that used to stumble and trip constantly, seemed even longer by her dance heels. They moved effortlessly across the wooden floor. Tiny shorts hugged her hips and the curve of her buttocks in a way that would make the heads of both sexes turn, and they looked even more tantalizing as she swayed and rolled them to the steady beat. And Adrien had never realised that the freckles on her beautiful face also dusted across her shoulders and arms and he wondered if they were scattered elsewhere on her porcelain skin, tinted gold by the stage lights. A light blush had fallen across her cheeks as she danced, hair as dark as night caught up in a tight bun to reveal an elegant swan-like neck. 

In that very moment, his princess had become incredibly beautiful over the years he had been away and Adrien hadn’t even realised it. And when she danced with him, her nerves and fear shattering her confidence, he wanted nothing more than to help her feel beautiful and as sexy as she had been when he first saw her again. Fear was replaced by ease, conviction and trust. She trusted him; the once shy stuttering girl he knew from school, his confident and determined princess, was putting her absolute faith in him, not as Chat Noir but as Adrien. And he never felt as wanted nor as needed as he did then. Guiding her body, twisting and rolling in sync to their moves as they matched their footwork felt so familiar, strangely so. They moved effortlessly. And Marinette was breathtaking to watch. Her bright blue eyes had darkened to the shade of lapis lazuli, and he felt her desire to be free, provocative and intimate in his arms slowly reveal itself with every move she made against him.

For the first time in his entire life, Adrien had felt his heartbeat quicken for another, not for his Lady … but for his Princess.

Then there was there afternoon at the café; learning about Marinette’s preference for ether white or dark chocolate and it warmed his heart knowing he could learn more about his new partner without his black mask and extra set of appendages. 

When Marinette had asked the inevitable about America, he knew he had to confess the long and exhausting truth about his decision to leave the life he had, behind him. There was no choice but to be completely honest with her. Everything just fell from his lips, laid bare for her to see; the rift between him and his father ultimately causing Adrien to divorce himself from him, the life that suffocated him for three excruciating years, his depression, leaving everything he had known behind, having to start the difficult journey of doing everything on his own for the first time … everything. But Marinette hadn’t judged him. She didn’t pity him either. In fact, she admired his decision. She had called him brave, her sincerity as well as her concern surprising him more than anything else. But when her small hand, warm from her white hot chocolate reached towards him, only to give his own hand a kind and comforting squeeze of reassurance, that’s when Adrien knew. He needed Marinette, his kind and wonderful princess in his life once more, just as much as he needed Ladybug.

So there he was, once again on her balcony, keeping her company in the evening hours.

“So what’s gotten ahold of your complete attention that you can’t pay attention to me?”

Marinette rolled her eyes but gave the cat-boy she had grown very fond of, a gentle smile.

“Just a costume design.”

“Something you’ll end up wearing I hope?”

“Yes, if the design is successful.”  
Chat cocked his head to the side, curious now.

”What’s this for?”

“The correct answer: it’s university coursework. The other answer … well, I’ve been taking dancing lessons since you’ve been away.”

“I didn’t know you danced!” Chat said, when in reality he did. He knew she danced, very well in fact. “What kind?” He knew the answer to that one as well and he tried to suppress the smirk that threatened to grace his lips when she blushed.

“Oh, just – uh … a ballroom dance style.” Marinette said quickly, eyes flashing with embarrassment.

Adrien couldn’t help chuckle at the idea of something as sensual as Bachata being played at an expensive dinner function – at least it would make the evening more exciting.

“Whatever you say, my princess. So this is for a performance?“

Marinette nodded. “I have ideas but now I’m wondering if I should go that extra mile and start designing my partner’s costume.”

“Partner? So ... Boyfriend?” Chat teased lightly, not really expecting an answer.

“I wish …” she muttered, more to herself.

“What was that?” had he heard her right? 

“Oh – nothing!”

“Did you just wish that … your dance partner was your boyfriend?”

“I …. Shut up! He’s just … very good looking!” She stammered. Not to mention incredibly kind, amazingly talented, swoon worthy, but Marinette decided to leave that bit out. She couldn’t look at him, far too embarrassed to show her face. “Don’t tease me!”

On the other hand Chat could only look at her stunned. He was her dance partner. Marinette was talking about him. She thought he was attractive? Attractive to the point, she would consider dating him? The very idea made his cheeks warm slightly, a blush tinting his face and he was thankful for the mask. The thought of dating a beautiful and extraordinary girl such as Marinette made his heart flutter. Wait … what?! Date Marinette! No! He couldn’t! Marinette was his friend, his princess. He cared about her. Loved her even. But she wasn’t Ladybug. He loved his Lady. He would always love his Lady. He couldn’t love anyone else.

“I – I wouldn’t dare tease you, Princess.” Chat mumbled, embarrassed, scratching the back of his head. “He – he must be a pretty amazing guy for you to like him. I mean – knowing you, you probably like him for more than his looks.” He added the last bit jokingly, waiting for Marinette to reply with a witty comeback. 

But he was shocked when Marinette stopped sketching, her posture lowering in defeat as she gave him a sad smile.

“He – he’s so much more than that.”

“R-really? How so?” Chat asked tentatively.

“A-another time, Chaton. Maybe I’ll tell you more about it.” She said.

“Alright then …” he replied.

The silence between them was awkward, neither of them looking at each other. Then Marinette sighed, standing as she gathered her things.

“I should get back inside. I need to have dinner soon.”

Chat nodded slowly, watching Marinette turn to leave.

“Wait! Princess!” Chat began, causing her to stop in her tracks.

“What?” 

Chat had no idea why he had stopped her. But the idea of leaving, especially like this, felt very wrong. He hated the discomfort, the lack of communication, and the tension that had arisen between the two of them. Honestly, he had no idea what he wanted to say. Only that he needed to leave knowing his princess was content.

“I … if you really like him, why not tell him.” Chat found himself saying quietly. Wait. What?!

“Oh, Chat. It’s a lot more complicated then that.” She gave a half-hearted smile.

“Why?”

“I’ve been in love with this boy since the first day he started school. I … well that’s a story for another day. Basically, throughout our final years of school I never found the courage to tell him. I just couldn’t. I couldn’t even form a comprehensible sentence around him. I still can’t. And – and seeing him again, as my dance partner … well, I, I guess I don’t want to ruin what we have now. I mean I’ve just started seeing him again. I’ve seen him, three times already, and that’s it. He’s gone through so much since I last saw him, so it’s best if I just don’t pursue this.”

“But – but you’re in love with him.” Chat said faintly.

“And, I think he’s in love with somebody else. I mean that’s what he told everyone before he left for America. I – I was heartbroken but I’ve come to accept that. So what if I still feel something for him? He’s not going to return my feelings, so there was no point in telling him. And I don’t think I should tell him now.”

“I …” Chat began but then the memories came back. His final year in school, Nino, Alya, Marinette and the rest of the class playing a game of truth or dare during their final week before graduation. A stupid game. Confessions. A lot of Kim’s cheap alcohol. That stupid and awkward moment of him revealing his absolute infatuation with a ‘mystery’ girl, he refused to give further details about.

“I … I’m so sorry, Marinette.” Chat whispered.

Marinette frowned. “Why are you sorry?”

“This – this boy, he never truly understood you, never really saw how you felt. He, he doesn’t deserve someone like you.” Chat couldn’t believe it. He had been so selfish, blinded by his still ongoing infatuation with the beautiful superhero he didn’t even know, that he missed the princess that had always been there for him.

“He deserves everything in the world.” Marinette growled with such sudden ferocity that Chat flinched, almost falling off of the railing. Chat stared at Marinette; she was angry, no – she was furious.

“He went through so much, he’s experienced so much pain. This kind and loving person has been through things that I wouldn’t wish even on my worst of enemies, yet he still wants to make others happy. He’s the least selfish person I’ve ever known. He’s more than just a handsome. He’s such a beautiful person on the inside too. He’s talented, he’s amazing … he’s everything. So don’t you dare say he doesn’t deserve me or anyone else for that matter. I for one am just happy to be in his life again. And I don’t care if he’s in love with somebody else. Lie I said, all I want is to be in his life again, and for him to be happy.”

Chat sat back, completely stunned, mouth slightly agape. Marinette … Marinette truly loved him. She loved him. And he had never even seen it. And guilt tore at him from the inside out, his heart heavy, knowing that he could never truly return her love. He loved Ladybug. He was supposed to love her. He couldn’t love anyone else. Yet, how could he have hurt the incredible and extraordinary girl that stood in front of him? How could he have been blind and so oblivious to her gentle affection? Marinette didn’t deserve to love someone like him. She had so much love to give and deserved someone who could return that, who would give her everything in the world. In another life, he wished he could have been that person.

“I … Then keep trying.” Chat said quietly.

“What?”

“Don’t give up on him. No matter what you think, I don’t want you to give up on him.” Wait … what on earth was he saying. Why was he encouraging this? This was the last thing he wanted.

“I don’t understand.”

“If you really loved him – you would make him see. You’d tell him. You shouldn’t give up on him, Marinette. He’ll fall in love with you. He’ll see the one person that’s been there for him this entire time. He’ll fall in love with you.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then he doesn’t deserve you.”

“Then what?” she crossed her arms. “Where do I go from there?”

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

And Chat leapt from the balcony into the night, without a second glance, as he left a very bewildered Marinette behind him.


	15. Miss Flexible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

Marinette couldn’t get to sleep last night. Chat’s words had haunted her. Why had he been so adamant about Marinette pursuing her love for the one person she knew she could never have? What had he meant when he said, I’ll be waiting for you, if she truly did fail. And why had he taken off like that? His earnest and desperate expression had greatly unsettled her, concern and wariness for her partner and her companion, the very cause for a restless night in bed

The next morning she woke up tired and irritable, barely tasting her breakfast. And she had no idea how she would make it through her major class today without falling asleep, let alone make it through her first dance practice with Adrien, another thing she worried about, which had also kept her up last night. 

Thankfully, class went by without a problem. After a strong cup of coffee she had been able to present her almost-finished dress to her tutors and her peers, which was well received by both audience members. After a few minor suggestions to develop the skirt in the hopes of making it even more structurally dramatic, as well as add more ‘green’ to the colour scheme, she quickly dropped her things off in her university locker, before she could make her way to Latina á Paris.

As she made her way out of the university grounds, she was met by a bunch of swooning girls all crowded around one of the entrance pillars. They were clearly admiring someone from afar.

“Oh my god! He’s become so handsome!”

“I can’t believe he’s back!”

“I thought he was still in America!”

“Who cares! He’s back here now! Oh my gosh he’s so cute!”

“Do you think he’ll say hi to us if we go over to him?”

“Shhh! He’s looking this way!”

And he did look their way, or more specifically, her way. Bright blue eyes met beautiful evergreen and Marinette blushed, as she watched him give her a breathtaking smile. But there were dark circles under his eyes. Clearly he had a restless night, just as she had.

Adrien walked up the steps, nodding courteously to the giggling girls before heading straight to her … much to their shock and disappointment.

“Did you have a good class?”

“I – uh, yeah. It went well.” 

“Did you get good feedback?”

“Yeah – but only some minor adjustments. Um, thank you for waiting for me but you didn’t have to.”

He frowned, “Sorry – I thought that – ”

“No, no! I mean if you want to come and meet me after my classes, I would love that! But only if you’re able to! I won’t expect you to come here all the time, what I mean is …” she flustered. 

Adrien gave her a slight smile, though his green eyes remained fairly dull.

“Here, let me take your those.” Gently taking her dance gear from her. 

“But your bags - ” she began, trying desperately to ignore the glares she was getting from the multitude of female students as they made their way out of the entrance.

“It’s okay – your stuff is really light compared to mine.”

“Th-thank you.”

Marinette couldn’t help but notice Adrien’s demeanor had changed. He was more reserved than the last times she had seen him, a significant change to his kind and more cheerful disposition. Today something was weighing heavily on his mind, and it clearly distracted him from being himself.

“Are you okay, Adrien. If something is bothering you I’m listening, if you want to talk about it.”

“I – it’s complicated.” Adrien said, rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes concerned.

Marinette nodded. “I – I understand. What happened?”

“It’s just – I had a bit of a wake up call yesterday. I learned something about someone in a very unexpected way, and I’m still not quite sure how to deal with the news.”

“Oh! Is it bad?”

“Honestly, I have no idea. I just … the people that are involved in this make the whole thing complicated. I don’t want to hurt either of them.”

“Oh … is it girl problems?” Marinette asked tentatively.

Adrien chuckled. If only she knew. “Like I said, a bit more complicated than that but yeah – it’s girl problems.”

Marinette gave Adrien an assuring smile, though internally she couldn’t help but feel sorrowful, considering her own feelings towards the man. “I’m sure everything will turn out all right.”

Adrien nodded. "I hope so too..." he murmured, gazing at his dark haired companion, the same girl who had plagued his thoughts last night and the cause for a long night of troubled sleep.

The two of them walked in silence. It wasn’t a long walk to their studio; barely fifteen minutes. Adrien and Marinette couldn’t figure out if the silence was welcoming or unbearable, both of them wanting to say so much but too exhausted from last night to make any attempt at polite small talk. They had personal dance practice after all for the next three hours.

When they arrived, Anna was sitting at the reception desk, waiting for them. 

“Hello you two. It’s good to see you both. You have been designated Studio 3. You will have to share this space with Jaxx and her partner Leo on some Mondays. But usually it will just be the two of you. I will give you a timetable so you know what days you do have to share. But for the next two weeks you have the room to yourselves. I hope you have a productive practice.”

Both of them thanked her.

“I’ll see you in the studio?” Adrien said, giving Marinette her dance gear so she could change.

“Yeah. I’ll only take a couple of minutes.” She said as she stepped into the female bathrooms.

It didn’t take her long to change. She had opted to wear a loose pink singlet over her bra, unconventional for Latin dance but it kept her cool. She had also slipped on her favourite black leggings, before buckling her dance heels. Quickly tying her hair into a bun, she made her way over to Studio 3.

He was already there waiting for her, working the controls of the speakers, as he plugged in his I-phone. She felt herself blush again. How could he look so handsome in simple track pants and a white cotton shirt?

“Do you want to stretch for a bit? Whilst I get this ready?” he asked her.

She nodded faintly, heading over to the mirrors, trying to concentrate on the task at hand. She didn’t expect them to focus too much on incorporating very complicated and difficult moves. Today, they were probably just going to explore different options for dance positions and footwork and shines. But it didn’t hurt to prepare herself. She had learned the hard way that her dance partner’s anticipation towards her flexibility would sometimes be a little over-estimated. By the time she had settled into the splits, she reached up, trying to stretch as far back as she could go, feeling the tension in her muscles grow. It hurt but in a good way. Thankfully, being Ladybug kept her flexible but this was different. Dancing meant having to hold specific positions and poses for certain amounts of times, whilst still maintaining one’s frame and elegance. It took patience, strength and a lot of dedication to improve her technique.

Adrien had joined her, stretching his own limbs. She hadn’t realised Adrien was a lot more flexible than most men, even for a model. He was also very strong. He certainly had a dancer’s body. One would mistake him for a professional dancer had it not been for the modeling career. He was muscular, that she couldn’t deny but his height and the toned, streamline form of his body made him more lithe, his movements quick, agile, certain and powerful, just like a jungle cat.

“Need help?” Adrien asked.

It took her a moment to realise that she was staring. “I – uh, sorry. I’m – I’m fine.” She quickly got up from the ground, shaking her limbs loose and rolling her heeled feet one last time.

“You good?”

Marinette nodded. “Yeah – I’m good. So, how are we going to do this?”

“This is our first practice, and I have a few ideas. But I think, since we were interrupted the last time, thanks to Alya, I feel we should dance to the song again. Just to run through it.”

“You have a basic routine in your head already?”

“Yeah, I have an idea of what we could do. And I’ve come up with some basic footwork already. But then again, I need to understand and familiarise myself with your dance capabilities, and what you’re most comfortable with. And this is a joint routine. So if you have any ideas, if you want to change something or improve it, simply tell me and we’ll work on the routine together..”

“So if there’s anything we like in particular, we can include it?”

Adrien nodded in response. “Is there anything you want to add specifically. Are there any positions you like doing?”

Had Marinette not started taking dance lessons, having Adrien ask her that particular question would have caused her to internally combust. But ‘provocative double-entendre dance terminology’ was the norm for her now.

“Well I’d like to put in at least one split position.” She thought, crossing her arms around her as she racked for ideas.

“I agree, your form for that is wonderful, and you come up with some really beautiful and delicate hand gestures for it. So I was thinking perhaps one verse I could lead you into that, maybe through a spin. I think it will work best if I lead you into the splits, slowly, considering the tempo of our song is fairly mild.”

“I can also do side splits as well as front ones? I mean, for styling, I guess they could make the routing more impressive.”

“How flexible are you? What can you do?”

“Well – I’m pretty good at back bends; dips are fairly standard after all so don’t be afraid to dip me further back than usual. I can arch my back quite far now.”

Marinette walked over to the horizontal wooden bar, which rested against one of the mirrored walls. Holding onto the bar for support, she stretched up and poised her hand, then slowly bent backwards arching her back, before letting go of the bar to do a complete back bend.

She heard Adrien give a low whistle and she giggled from her new upside down position.

“Can you do a hand stand from that position?” he chuckled.

“You bet!” she answered, shifting her weight as she kicked her knees up to bring her legs over her head, slowly bringing her feet back down to the floor. She brought her upper half back up to meet him, finishing the move with a delicate flick of her hands, standing straight and tall.

“What else?”

Marinette thought for a moment, before bringing her left leg upwards towards her side, straightening her limb, her heeled foot just past her head. “I can do both legs.” She commented as she brought her foot back to the ground. She was glad she had stretched more than she had anticipated.

“Well, you’re certainly Miss Flexible, aren’t you? We’ll definitely use that for styling to.”

“And then there’s Alya who can barely touch her toes.”

“You should encourage her to take dance lessons with us. Maybe that will help her improve.”

“She says she has two left feet.”

“If the clumsiest girl I knew from school is able to dance so effortlessly, then I’m sure Alya can meet our expectations too.”

She laughed.

“So is there anything else you want this routine to have?”

“Can you do lifts?” she asked him.

“I can – what kind?”

“Uhh ….” Marinette honestly wasn’t sure of their names, only that she loved doing them.

“Tell you what, dance with me and I’ll lift you. I won’t tell you which lifts I do or when I’ll do them, but if you’re able to get into them comfortably then we’ll include one or two of them.”

“Just to warn you … um, I’m heavier than you think.”

He stared at her as if she had three heads. “You’re not serious.” He said incredulously. 

“No! I’ve had a guy say I was so heavy during a night of social dancing.” She had left the party insulted.

“He doesn’t even deserve to be called a man. You’re tiny, Marinette.”

She growled, “I’m five foot four thank you very much.”

“And I’m six-two. Your point?”

“Enough about my height. So, how about dance?” she asked shyly.

“Yeah, I’ll just put my music on shuffle and we’ll just experiment with different dance moves and holds for the first hour and a half. Then I’ll teach you what I’ve come up with for the routine. I’m more than open to suggestions, this is a joint routine, remember.”

Marinette smiled. “Yeah – let’s do this.”

Adrien gave her a grin, any previous awkwardness when they were leaving Marinette’s university had long disappeared, evaporating from the room without either of them realising it. Dancing had put the both of them in a very comfortable space, allowing them to simply be themselves, share their mutual interests and enjoy each other’s company. Marinette couldn’t be more thankful.

When a Bachata version of ‘Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing’ blared through the speakers, Marinette couldn’t help but give a cheesy grin. 

“I should have figured you had this on your phone.”

He shrugged, easily taking her small frame into his arms, as he began sidestepping to the beat. She easily followed him, her bright blue eyes shining, her hips swaying sensually with his own. 

“After this I’m curious to see what songs you have.” He commented.

“Maybe next practice?” she offered, raising an eyebrow.

“Definitely.” With a smile, he rolled Marinette backwards into a deep dip, his hand easily hitching her leg up against his hip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again! Here's another youtube link to the song, Adrien and Marinette were dancing to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J9nNKRqKE94 . A lot of the songs that feature in this fanfiction also happen to be on my I-phone :D


	16. Pretending He Wants Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

The first two hours of their dance practice went by quickly and Marinette hadn’t even realised it. She was actually beginning to enjoy herself, slowly feeling more confident about being herself as she danced with Adrien. He taught her new positions and footwork and she learned eagerly and with the same determination she had whenever she started a new design project. Adrien had come up with a good routine, stylish, sensual but not too hard for Marinette to pick up and she had always been a very fast and keen learner. And it wasn’t long until she began styling, flicking her arms up above her head and adding extra side steps or faster turns, quite unconsciously. It gave their current routine more flare and Adrien took careful note, remembering any particular moves that looked especially good, adding them to the choreography. 

When a particular spin had her pushing her hair back from her face, tangling her fingers into her now messy strands when moved into a body roll, Adrien paused.

“Do that again.” He said. “Can you add a hip sway to the end of that? Roll your hips in a circle?”

Blushing slightly, she repeated the move, accentuating the arch of her body roll as she gave a final sensual sway of her hips. She exaggerated the styling of her hands, feeling a little silly as she tried to make the dance styling more provocative.

“Can – can you actually do that whilst taking your hair out; have it undone for the performance?”

“I – I can do that.” she said quietly. “Are we putting this move somewhere?”

“I was thinking that move would look very good at the very start of the song, before the lyrics. It would be a really nice touch just to have you on the dance floor first, by yourself that is and I could join you at the start of the verses or something.”

“Wait! You want me to bodyroll my behind all on my own!” She gave a panicked squeak.

“Interesting choice of words. But yeah.”

“I – but why?!”

Adrien gave her a reassuring smile, evergreen eyes warm as he stared fondly at his dance partner. 

“Well we are trying to demonstrate a very ‘sensual’ dance, but we’re focusing on the more beautiful and romantic side of it.” He mused. “I was thinking it would look really nice just having you dance on your own for a bit, showing the audience how beautiful and intimate it makes you feel. It’s a very strong and sound introduction to the concept we’re trying to portray. What do you think?”

“I … uh …” Marinette trailed. She was beginning to think pink and crimson were going to be permanent shades on her pale face, her cheeks warm from blushing far too much in front of him.

“I mean this is just a suggestion. Only if you’re comfortable with this, Mari.” He said quickly.

Marinette looked at him shyly, “M-Mari?”

It was Adrien’s turn to blush, green eyes suddenly nervous as he looked away. “Oh. Um, sorry.”

“No, I don’t mind if you call me that.” she gave a hesitant smile.

“Kay then, Mari … uh, so how do you feel about this?”

She thought for a moment. It was honestly a very sound idea. It would introduce the mood of their dance very well. But she still was unsure about dancing all on her own, especially when people watched. She hated being in the spotlight. 

“Can I try it out first? I’m still uncertain. And can I dance with the music, I feel kind of silly without it.”

Adrien nodded. “I’ll let you have the dance floor, it will give you more space to practice.”

”Wait, you’re going to watch me?!“ she squeaked.

“And hundreds of other people, Marinette.” He chuckled.

“You – you have a fair point.”

Adrien went back to his plugged in I-phone, standing off to the side as he pressed play. He watched Marinette and her reflection. His princess had closed her eyes; he wasn’t entirely sure if she was concentrating on the music, or she had done that out of embarrassment.

When the music finally came on, he watched her take a breath, probably trying to settle her nerves as she hesitantly swayed to the beat, her steps gradually becoming more certain, the gentle sway of her body becoming more fluid.

Then the first lyrics began.

“Soy el mismo.”  
“Quien ese que hablaba contigo,”

And Marinette completely transformed in front of him. He watched her dance, that beautiful confidence of hers beginning to glow from her face, moving throughout her elegant slender frame.

“Quien te llamaba alas 2 del la mañana y te contaba,”

She finally brought her hands up, arching the entire length of her body into a slow sensual roll as she moved to the steady beat of the music, simply dancing on instinct. Eyes still closed, she ran her fingers through her dark raven hair. The move was so simple, so elegant. Yet when Marinette effortlessly pulled her hair free from her loose bun, hair falling into a thick wavy curtain that framed her freckled face, Adrien couldn’t look away. His green eyes had widened with awe. 

“Su sueños de niño.”

With a final sway of her hips, one hand delicately trailing in a tantalizing stroke past the curve of her breast and down her side, he was completely enthralled by the stunning, graceful and alluring woman before him. Marinette had never looked as beautiful as she did now.

The next verse began, the song picking up speed, and Adrien found himself moving towards her. How could he not? He was so drawn to his partner, his ‘Princess’. She never opened her eyes once as she started dancing the first steps of their routine, effortlessly turning them into a solo performance. She had completely forgotten he was watching her.

“Soy el mismo.”  
Quien te prestaba su oído.”  
“Sin importarme que el tiempo nos pasara lentamente,”  
“Hasta quedarnos dormidos.”

As he circled her moving body, slowly coming up behind her, he watched her reflection. She was smiling. She was happy. She was smiling because she felt beautiful; she felt wanted. And Adrien’s heart almost gave out on him. Her smile so utterly breathtaking and full of happiness, that something unfamiliar stirred deep inside him for the girl he wanted nothing more than to take into his arms. In the first few seconds of the song, Marinette’s simple, elegant and seductive steps had captivated him completely. Like a magnet, he was drawn to her. Like her mysterious smile, he revolved around her like the moon revolved around the sun. It physically pained him not to be close to her, to feel that connection, to be the one she trusted and wanted as he guided her every step.

Finally, he closed the distance, stepping into her space from behind as he brought a hand to her waist. He pulled Marinette close to him, until she was flushed against his chest and rolling her hips into his pelvis. Her blue eyes flew wide open in shock, watching their movements in the mirror, blushing bright pink. But he only brought one of her hands down to his side, gently pressing it against his thigh. The contact almost burned him as he guided her entire body into another body roll against him.

“Keep dancing, I’ve got you.” He murmured against her soft hair, evergreen eyes meeting bright blue in the mirror’s reflection. She gave tentative nod. And he quickly spun her out into a spin. 

Like the last two times they had danced together, they moved in perfect sync; instinct, trust and the need to let the music move their bodies, guide their every step. But neither Adrien nor Marinette found that they could stay apart for long. The music and the lyrics were far more sensual and tender to what they usually danced to, only encouraging their constant connection. Hands guided delicate hips and a slender waist, bringing them forwards to move against his own. Foreheads touched, noses brushing as she was pulled against him. Her arms wrapped around strong shoulders, trailed down his back, or brushed against the warm hard planes of his chest. When he lifted her, he found that she weighed close to nothing; she was so light, so graceful in his arms. She found that her left leg was constantly off the around, either encouraged into a slight kick or pulled tight up around his hip, holding their lower halves together intimately. Every arch of her back, roll of her head and every dip was met with confidence, and she trembled whenever his fingertips slowly traced the length of her body, past rise of her hip bone and down her thigh. Both of them were completely lost in each other and the gentle, passionate music they danced to.

When she was brought back up again, a strong but gentle hand had woven itself into her hair, bringing her close to him. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her lips. Evergreen eyes had darkened with an intensity that only fuelled the fire in her aching heart for him, making it thrash in her chest. But Marinette couldn’t look away, not from Adrien. Tearing her gaze away would mean breaking the connection that they had created and she couldn’t even bear the thought. They said nothing, tension and evidence of their intimacy and affection hanging heavily in the air between them. Both of them were panting hard. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead, running past her neck. But she didn’t feel embarrassed. She didn’t feel ashamed. Instead, she felt very shy and vulnerable in his arms, something that she rarely allowed anyone else to see, not even her kwami.

Then Adrien surprised her by sighing softly when the song finally came to a close. He moved forwards, only to rest his hot forehead against her own, his golden hair tickling her face. A content and bashful smile had graced his lips and she felt her heart flutter, ease slowly washing through her body. She still felt self-conscious but the simple gesture was oddly tender, comforting; even romantic, a sharp contrast to what had transpired between them a few minutes earlier. Adrien and Tiki had been right – there was a fine line between sexual intimacy and romance.

Adrien had made her feel so beautiful, so sexy. And as he held her close in his arms, for the first in a very long time, she pretended that the love of her life wanted her as much as she longed for him. Unknown to Marinette, Adrien was also pretending; that in another life, he could love this incredible and amazing woman, that his ‘Princess’ was his and his alone … if only for a moment.

“Oh. My. God! That was un-f*cking believable.” She exclaimed.

Marinette groaned. Why did her friend always have to ruin the mood? So much for pretending, for a few minutes longer. 

Adrien gave a sheepish chuckle as he finally let her go. 

The two of them turned onto to find that they had a much larger audience than they had anticipated. Alya was there, filming them of course on her phone. She wasn’t alone. Kim, Max and Nino, whose travel suitcase lay forgotten at his feet, were with her. All of them except for Alya’s large smirk; stared at the two of them with very wide shocked eyes.

“Dude ….” Nino began but couldn’t finish since Max picked up from his sentence.

“That was – ”

“Hot.” Kim finished.

Alya only gave a devious grin, still quite content on recording Adrien and Marinette’s embarrassment.

“Uh, so anyone up for dinner?” Adrien found himself offering, nervously.

Marinette could only bury her face in her hands, absolutely mortified.


	17. All Together Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

Marinette glared at her best friend who was smiling gleefully at her. The two of them were sitting in the café that Adrien had taken her to the first time. Whilst the boys ordered and paid for their food, the girls sat at the table, ‘bag-sitting’ and deep in conversation. In truth, Marinette just wanted to head home and lock herself in her room and never come out, her embarrassment from an hour ago still flushed on her face.

“Okay – one, how did you know I was practicing today? Two! I’m certain I never told you or gave you my schedule.”

“Ding ding ding! One, I have my ways. Two, I’ve been hired.” Her friend grinned, “Convenient, don’t you think?”

“Wait – huh?” Marinette was confused.

“Well you know I’ve been doing a lot of vlogging work to earn money. Posting stuff on social media, instagram-ing on behalf of the company's I work for, facebook sites, bit of marketing here and there.”

Her friend nodded slowly. “And what has that got to do with you, ‘conveniently’ showing up at not only one of my practices, but the very first one I have with Adrien, something I was definitely not gonna tell you about, at least not just yet.”

Her friend frowned. “And why not?!"

“Don’t change the subject. How did you find out?”

“Okay – strictly speaking, I didn’t find out about your classes, specifically. Me stumbling in on you was an accident. I swear it. I didn’t know you were in that practice room. I had no idea you were even practicing today. Back to what I was saying, a few companies have been asking me to do a lot of media coverage for them, getting them set up on social media but more importantly, asking me to advertise their company in the ‘right’ way.”

“And what has that got to do with Latina á Paris?” Marinette said slowly.

“That lady, Anna. She contacted me asking me to help them get them more involved with Paris, encourage people to come and take classes. I guess it’s more of, they already know how to advertise their studio – they reached out to me because I know the ‘right’ people they can potentially market to. And, I have connections when it comes to those stakeholders. I understand them. I know what they want so that’s why I was contacted. And you know me. I’m obsessive about blogging and getting people involved and telling the whole world about exciting things. And I also happen to be very persuasive when it comes to getting those said people involved.”

“And when were you hired?”

“Just last night, well nothing was really confirmed until this morning. I’ve just signed all my paper work. I’m an official member of the studio now.”

“So what – you threatening people on your blog to take dance lessons is part of the job description?”

“First of all, I do not threaten people. That’s criminal. I forcefully encourage them for the good of their souls.”

Marinette gave her friend a look. “And you just happened to be in the studio the same time I start practicing?”

“Like I said, I didn’t know you would be dancing. Anna only mentioned that there were couples dancing in the studio you were in. She invited me over, asked me to start vlogging for the site I specifically set up for Latina á Paris, which is already getting loads of hits. She said I was free to watch, providing I didn’t interrupt the class. And if I had permission from the dancers, I could film them, for better coverage of the studio, which is what they want. So, I head over to the studio after my class, and lo and behold, I bump into Kim, Max and Nino, who tell me that they’re waiting for a certain blonde model to finish dance practice. Since there’s only one blonde model I know who happens to dance Bachata, who also happens to be dance partners with my best friend, I put two and two together … and here we are.”

Marinette’s head met the table. It was official. Fate hated her. Absolutely hated her. Of all the people they could have hired to ensure the studio’s good image, they had to pick her very adamant and head strong friend, who was ruthless in getting what she wanted whenever she put her mind to getting it. 

“Oh my god … why did this happen? Of all the days you could have vlogged, it had to be today!”

“If it’s any consolation, I still don’t know when you’re practice times are, since you still haven’t told me … but …” Alya trailed off, her best friend giving her a nudge. Marinette looked up from her arms to see hazel eyes looking mournful.

“No! No! NOOOOO!” she said firmly.

“Please Marinette! It’s not just you on that vlog. There will be other dance couples too! I have to get coverage of the entire dancer team as well as the staff. I’ll also be covering people that visit and take lessons. Please! Please! You’d really help me out! I promised my mom I’d do a really good job since she attends classes! I want to do her proud. And they’re paying me! This is my first real job and I can’t let them down!” Her friend pleaded, hands clasped together as if she were praying. 

“Urgh! Didn’t you say you wanted to make a blog specifically about me?” Marinette frowned.

“Well – yes ... but still! I’d link it to the main blog. I promise Marinette! I’m not gonna film you or get you to do anything uncomfortable or something that will jeopardise your future as a designer.” Alya continued to press her earnestly.

“But it might cause problems for Adrien. His life as a model remember … what if – what if being filmed doing something like this, has a negative impact on his career.”

Alya gave a smug grin, crossing her arms. “Already checked and approved. I called all the necessary people and have all the paper work. You know me. I like being thorough. I’m just waiting for Adrien’s approval though his agent has already indicated everything should be fine. As you probably already know, the dance clothing company Adrien is currently modelling for, ‘Stüdaria’, sells a lot of stock to Latina á Paris. They also happen to be the biggest dance clothing, supplier throughout Europe. Since the Latina á Paris’s new blog will also have to showcase performances that include their costumes, I’ve also been asked to promote the clothing worn by the dancers. It’s a good marketing opportunity for both companies. Adrien is in the clear. Don’t worry – he’ll be doing his job as well as promoting the brands he’s been asked to represent.”

“Let me get this straight – the fact that Adrien just happens to be the son of internationally famed fashion designer Gabriel Agreste, as well as being France’s most famous model, is considerably favourable for the studio.”

Alya shrugged, giving a sheepish smile. “That’s how it works I’m afraid. But you needn’t worry about Adrien. He’s very safe in terms of any legal troubles. He’ll just be doing his job. I wouldn’t have taken this opportunity if there was the slightest inkling that one of my friend’s was going to get in trouble by it.”

Marinette sighed, looking at her friend. “You really want this job.”

Alya nodded, hazel eyes hopeful as she looked at her friend.

Marinette gave a sigh in defeat, rubbing her eyes. “Just … before you post anything specifically related to me and Adrien, just show it to me first. Before you post anything, wait until I’ve see it so I can see if it’s okay to put up on that blog.”

Alya’s eyes lit up. 

“Group stuff is fine. I can’t control that. But stuff between me and Adrien … I want to approve it first. That’s my only compromise. Promise?” Marinette eyed her friend. 

Alya gave a loud squeal as she enveloped her friend in a really tight hug. “You’re the best friend in the world! I love you so much! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!!!!!!” Her friend gushed.

“Well – I’m glad someone’s enthusiastic about this.” Marinette said unable to stop herself from smiling.

The boys came to the table soon after that, carefully putting down everyone’s drinks and steaming plates of food. Adrien sat beside Marinette on the sofa and she gave him a shy smile, which he returned. Alya gave a slight smirk, until she felt Nino give her a slight kick under the table.

She glared at him. He glared back. He had been gone for how long and she was still just as devious. She had expected him to mature during his years away from Paris. He had certainly improved in the looks department but Nino was still as infuriating as ever.

Adrien handed Marinette a white ice chocolate. “I made sure to stay away from the dark chocolate sprinkles.”

Marinette giggled taking a sip of the sweet drink.

“So Marinette – I didn’t know you danced, like Adrien. How long have you been taking lessons?” Kim said, taking a bite of his steak sandwich. 

“How long has it been since we last saw you and Alya?” Max wondered.

“More to the point, how long has it been since we all hung out like this?” Nino wondered out loud.

“Well – considering you’re no longer living in Paris at the moment Nino, you not being here is understandable.” Adrien gave a grin, leaning back into his sofa. He carefully handed half of his hot chicken wrap to Marinette, who took it with a blush.

“Yes, it has been a long time since we all saw each other.” Marinette began before taking a quick bite of her wrap. She hadn’t realised just how hungry she was. Chewing carefully, she swallowed her first bite so she could continue.

“I’ve been dancing for coming up to three years now. Bachata is my main dance style but like Adrien, I know others, like Salsa and Kizomba. I want to learn more styles eventually.”

“No – but really guys! The two of you look amazing when you dance together! I’ve seen some pretty weird stuff at the nightclubs I DJ at, but this was legit!”

Marinette gave a shy smile at the compliment.

“Thanks – uh, yeah. That was our first proper practice together.”

Marinette then began to describe her life as a design student, and how hectic it was. She showed them pictures of her designs, she told them about her casual job as a waitress. She told them about her parents. She told them little insignificant details about her life since leaving school. By the end of everyone’s monologue, she was smiling, having reconnected with her old school friends, that it reminded her of the easier days when she was still a young and naïve fifteen year old.

Kim was working as a sports trainer full time. He had opted not to go to college, fearing his exam grades would have gotten him no where so he had decided to find work. As for Max, being the genius that he always had been in class, he was doing a Masters Degree in Computer and Technical Science straight from school. Both of them had been living together for quite a while until they needed someone to help them pay rent. When Adrien had offered to move in, they hadn’t even bothered interviewing him, welcoming their old school friend with open arms. It didn’t take much for Marinette to realise Kim and Max had been the support and family Adrien needed when he was still getting back on his feet. She would have to thank them later. Nino on the other hand was visiting the three of them, bunking on a spare mattress in Adrien’s room for the remainder of his three-week stay. He worked as a professional DJ at different nightclubs. He enjoyed it; he loved the night scene and it payed well.

Alya on the other hand could only watch quietly at how her best friend seemed so at ease with the very same crush that usually left her a stuttering mess. Most of the time, the second-hand embarrassment that came with watching the two of them interact with each other had been enough to make even Alya cringe. Instead, Marinette and Adrien were sitting next to each other, both of them smiling as they talked, Marinette laughing at his jokes, whilst Adrien’s green eyes kept glancing fondly at Marinette whenever she was asked her opinion on something she found truly interesting.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nino raise an eyebrow, his dark brown eyes scrutinising behind his thick-framed glasses. His mouth was set in a thin disapproving line, making the stubble around his very nice and defined jawline seem even more attractive than usual. Wait … what?

She could practically read the expression in his eyes. 

I know what you’re thinking. Stop your scheming you madwoman!

And Alya found it difficult to not to flip him off.


	18. Relationship Advice From A Tiny Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

Alya’s mom had picked her up from the café leaving Marinette having to make her own way home. Although she had insisted she was fine heading home by herself, Adrien wouldn’t take no for an answer. He said a quick goodbye to Max, Nino and Kim as he began to walk her home. He would make sure his ‘Princess’ arrived safe and sound. He had dropped her off right on the front step of the Dupain-Cheng bakery, giving Marinette a fond smile. It had been nice to reconnect with everyone again; Adrien hadn’t remembered the last time he had been happy and surrounded by people he cared about. He had quite forgotten what it truly meant to have friends since his time in America.

So when he it finally came to saying goodbye to Marinette for the night, he felt empty. He had enjoyed being in her company, especially as Adrien. He was beginning to see a side of her that she rarely showed. Whether dancing with him, talking about the things she enjoyed doing, discussing her passions or simply making a joke or a witty comeback, Marinette seemed so confident, growing more comfortable around him. The more she relaxed, the more her true personality began to shine, a side he knew as Chat Noir, not as Adrien. She had an amazing personality, one that could charm anyone that happened to be in the same room as her. She met people’s gaze with beautiful and bewitching blue eyes and a kind-hearted smile, her voice sincere and warm whenever she spoke. Marinette had the power to take people into the palm of her hand, mesmerising them with both her character and her beautiful presence, and she never even realised it.

“Good night Mari.” He gave a smile.

She smiled back at him, a soft blush on her face. “Good night Adrien. I guess I’ll see you soon.”

And she closed the door.

“Sooner than you think, Princess.” He gave a grin. Without a second thought, he beckoned Plagg out of hiding.

“Plagg! Claws ou-!”

“HOLD IT LOVER BOY! We need to have a good talk.” Plagg growled, flying up to his chosen’s face so he was eye level with him. Since it was fairly late at night, no one was in the street. Both of them were safe from getting caught.

“Plagg! You reek.” Adrien grimaced. “How much cheese to you snarf?”

“Not enough, thanks to you. And before you even think of making another visit to Marinette, we need to talk. You can’t keep seeing her as Chat Noir. Not like this.”

“What I do and how I do is none of your business – ” he began but his kwami gave a snarl, flashing his fangs.

“You’ve made it my business when you decided to make that stupid promise the last time you visited her!”

Adrien pursed his lips but said nothing, heading over to the small park that wasn’t far from Marinette’s apartment. Adrien had been there a couple of times with her. He had also watched her sit on one of the many park benches, whenever he patrolled fascinated by her concentration whenever she drew in one of her many sketchbooks. Making sure no one was in the vicinity, he sat down, Plagg hovering in front of him.

“Okay – what’s wrong?” he asked his kwami.

“You like her.” He said flatly, crossing his arms over his small black chest.

“Marinette’s my friend. Of course I like her. What kind of question is that?” Adrien asked incredulously.

“Look kid, I’ve been meaning to say something to you after that last conversation you had with her, not as yourself but as Chat Noir.”

Adrien gave a slight wince, as he cringed at the memory. He had left Marinette standing on her balcony, her face dumbstruck as she tried to process his last words to her – I’ll be waiting for you. What he said had been stupid, simply a spur of the moment. To be honest, it had been unfair of him and he shouldn’t have said that to her.

“Look – I wasn’t thinking when I said that.”

“Wasn’t thinking? Kid – that’s an understatement. You’re an idiot.”

Adrien glared at his kwami who merely gave his chosen a similar scowl, bright green cat eyes glinting in the dim light of the moon.

“Now, look here, Plagg! I – ”

“Kid, you practically told her to keep her hopes up. You know very well that this girl’s been in love with you since the first day you met. She confessed to you. And what do you do – you decide to encourage that unrequited love. You’ve already told her you’re interested in someone else; that you’re in love with someone else … Ladybug if I remember.”

Adrien tried to protest but Plagg cut him off sharply.

“Then you go and tell her to keep her hopes up, to keep on trying?! What kind of person does that? You used your alter ego and encouraged her to keep on trying to chase a romantic relationship when the point is moot. You love someone else! You told her that already. Do you want to break her heart again, when you decide to tell her no? Oh wait, I forgot, you’re her Plan B – you’ll be waiting for her as Chat, if Plan A doesn’t work out. I look forward to the day she finds out that the guy that turned her down also happens to be the same one that told her that she should try in the first place.”

“Plagg – “

“The icing on the cake for me was you telling her that if Adrien doesn’t end up falling in love with Marinette, your alter ego will! You told her that you'd wait for her?! The real icing on the cake! Are you insane kid?! This is probably the worst and most selfish thing you could have done to someone. If you think that doing this to someone, especially someone like Marinette is okay, you seriously need one hell of a reality check.” Plagg didn’t sound furious. He sounded worse. He was disappointed with Adrien.

His chosen shrank back into the park bench, unable to look at his kwami in the eyes, flinching as the truth cut him like a knife. Plagg rarely got angry, particularly at his chosen. He also had a strong distaste for getting involved with complicated and unnecessary human emotions and relationships, preferring to focus his entire attentions on Camembert. But when Plagg got angry, he didn’t shout, he didn’t rant on and on. Instead, he became cold, removed … disappointed, especially if Adrien was involved. And Adrien knew he had messed up badly.

“I – I’ve really screwed up, Plagg. I honestly don’t know why I said it. But – ”

“But?”

Adrien didn’t know where to start. He honestly had no idea why he had said all those things to Marinette on her balcony. What he said wouldn’t help the matter? He had made only made things worse. A lot worse.

“Marinette – she’s, she’s so amazing. I never even realised it until I left for America. I didn’t realise how much I missed her company, as Chat and as Adrien. And when she told me that she loved me, that she loved Adrien, I – the idea of her giving up on me and perhaps falling in love with another man in the future, I just … I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t bear the idea of her being with someone else, loving someone else.”

Plagg gave a snarl. “I always knew you were an idiot. But this … I’ve never been more ashamed of you right now. You’re telling a girl whose love you can never return, to never give up hope, that she still has a chance with you … ‘cus you don’t want her to be with anyone else. That’s the most self-absorbed, self-centred and the most insensitive thing you’ve ever done to anyone, Adrien.”

Adrien had buried his face in his hands, it took him a moment to realise his cheeks were wet. He was crying.

“You don’t think I already know that, Plagg! I’m a monster! I’m the most selfish and the biggest idiot in the world. But I can’t – I can’t live without Marinette. It’s taken me how many years to finally realise that; a stupid trip to America, a body grind even, and then I just decide that I want her to be in my life and I want to be in hers all of a sudden. I’m an idiot Plagg, I know I am.”

Adrien began to sob, his entire body shuddering as he cried into his hands. He had messed up. He really had. And he had no idea how to fix it. And what was worse, every word Plagg said, every painful word that cut him like a blade to the gut, was the truth. He was possibly the worse human being to have ever existed at that moment. He didn’t deserve his beautiful Ladybug. And he certainly didn’t deserve someone as kind and as incredible as Marinette.

“Adrien – you told me that you would never feel anything towards anyone else, except Ladybug.” Plagg said quietly.

“And I do! I still love Ladybug. But these feelings for Marinette – they’re different. They’re there. And they’re different. And they’re not going to go away. I think they’re only going to get stronger and stronger.” Adrien mourned. It was as if his heart was being pulled in two. He was so conflicted. His heart told him to remain true to his Lady; she was his first love after all, the one that had completely captured his heart from the moment he saw her. She was brave, honest, determined, confident, unselfish, the most beautiful person he had ever known, even with her identity hidden. But the affection, the growing fondness that had blossomed between Marinette and himself had been unexpected. He had never expected for his superhero counterpart to become friends with his civilian classmate. He had never imagined that he would discover so much about this extraordinary talented girl, with a fire that sparked a longing deep within him. Whereas his love for Ladybug made his heart thrash in his chest, to the point that he was left dizzy from his adoration and idolisation for her, his devotion for his sapphire-eyed princess had been slow, tentative, and gradual. Like Ladybug, it too had been built on utmost trust and devotion to each other, but the playful and fiery banter and teasing remarks shared between them was also masked by a layer of tenderness and gentle adoration. Neither of them had expected it, nor had they expected the need to be in each other’s presence so very often. Chat had specifically changed his patrol routes just to visit Marinette, often sending his Lady a quick notice to say he needed to stop by a particular street in order to check on his favourite civilian.

Adrien smacked his forehead. He was an idiot. And a hopeless and exceptionally stupid romantic.

“Kid – do you love Ladybug out of loyalty?” Plagg asked him, his voice no longer harsh. The tiny black cat sat on Adrien’s knee, giving his chosen a curious look.

“No! Ladybug – she’s been my partner since I first became Chat Noir. She’s had my back, she’s trusted me, saved me so many times than I can count. She’s always been there for me.” Adrien exclaimed, memories of his beloved partner flooding back.

“And Marinette? How often has she been there for you?”

“I …” Adrien trailed off as memories of a certain raven-hair girl with freckles dusting her cheeks, invaded his thoughts. Marinette had been there for him. Not in the same way as Ladybug. But she had been there for him; she had saved him in a different way.

He remembered a cold wet night, it had rained heavily and he had simply leapt out of his bedroom window without a thought after a certain fight with his father had left him furious and absolutely broken. He had nowhere to go to, nowhere to turn for help, yet he found himself on the balcony of the Dupain-Cheng bakery, curling in on himself as he cried. Marinette had found him. She hadn’t said anything, she simply brought him inside, and grabbed him a blanket, getting him warm as she stroked his damp hair, lulling him to sleep. She had given him the love and comfort he had always longed, when he most needed it most. When a particularly bad run in with a burglar had injured him on the job, he knew he couldn’t go to the hospital without revealing his true identity. Once again he had looked to Marinette for help, who bravely managed to stitch his gaping wound. She had to listen to his screams and curses, muffled by the towel clenched between his teeth, as she carefully sewed his cut closed. Though her eyes were frightened and wet with tears, her hand had not trembled, and she nursed his fevered and aching body back to health in secret. Of course there were the happier days, when the two of them simply talked long into the night during his evening visits, about meaningless things. He didn’t remember what they had talked about exactly but he remembered being happy, comfortable and safe in her presence. Marinette had done so much for him. She had become so much more.

“She’s … she’s my hero, Plagg.” Adrien finally admitted, his body slumping into the chair. He was exhausted. The inner turmoil had been wrenching his heart yet it had only been how many days since he last saw Marinette? That’s right. It had been three days. Three short meaningless days. And in those three days, Adrien had fallen in love with her. He had fallen for her hard. He had finally fallen in love with the beautiful girl that had always been there for him.

“Kid – look. I get that you love Ladybug, but think about it. Do you really know Ladybug, the person under that mask?”

“No – I mean, she always wanted to keep her identity private.”

“Listen, I’m not saying that you should just give up Ladybug immediately. And Marinette isn’t a replacement to soothe your loneliness.”

“Of course she isn’t! She could never be just a replacement. She deserves so much more than that, more than me. She – she deserves everything. I wish I could be the one to give her that, but I can’t.”

“Kid – you deserve to be happy too.” Plagg said softly.

“Huh?”

“Kid – being in love at fifteen isn’t the same as being in love when you’re twenty-one. People change over time. People have different dreams, different ambitions.”

“I can’t just simply give up on the person who has been my partner for so long, Plagg.”

“And that means having to give up on Marinette, kid. You know this.”

“I – I know.”

“All I’m trying to say, when you were fifteen you idolised Ladybug. You still do in fact. But idolising someone and loving them from afar and only knowing their better qualities, isn’t exactly love. You gotta love the whole person, accept their bad qualities, their insecurities, their fears, their wants, too. I feel like you and Marinette know more about each other than you do with Ladybug, simply because you were comfortable with each other, because you became friends first. You got to know each other bit by bit. I mean she loves you as Adrien. She’s seen your weaker points so she’s familiar with your own insecurities. But she also knows Chat Noir, if not the man under the mask, she’s just as familiar with Chat’s hopes, fears, and dreams.”

“But – but I was never in love with Marinette. Not at first.”

“True love doesn’t necessarily mean love at first sight, kid.”

“You think I should just what – give up on Ladybug? Like that? Plagg - that's not going to be easy.”

“That’s up to you, kid. But what I am saying, if you look at your current situation, it’s clear that you have feelings for this girl, and your feelings for Ladybug, although they’re still strong, they’re not as coherent nor as certain as the feelings you have for Marinette. I think, no, I believe you would truly be happy with your 'Princess' , since you know her, that you’ve seen both sides of her. And she’s technically seen both sides of you, as Adrien and as Chat Noir, although she doesn’t know it yet.”

“So – what do you want me to do?”

“What I want is irrelevant, kid. You humans always seem to make a mess of things. And my opinion only complicates matters.”

“But I’m asking you. What do you want?”

His kwami paused before speaking, his voice low and serious. “I want you to be happy, kid. Truly. Don’t let something from your past hold you back from having a future.”

Adrien found himself smiling, eyes sad as he gave his kwami a gentle pat. The little black cat gave a scowl but he soon began to purr, rubbing into his hand.

“Thanks for the reality check Plagg.”

“So, what have you decided?”

“It – it’s going to be hard. I can't give up on Ladybug right away. Falling 'out' of love with her is going to be ... difficult. But I think I’m ready to fall in love with Marinette. And I'm going to love her properly this time, as Adrien and as Chat Noir.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“I’m going to tell her. Tell her how I feel, as Adrien.”

“You know you’ll have to get the ‘bad news’ as Chat, when you do.”

Adrien shook her head. “No – I’m not gonna tell her right away, Plagg. First, I deal with the feelings I still have for Ladybug. Marinette deserves that much. I’m going to fall in love with her the right way. I’m going to get her to fall in love with both sides of me, as Adrien and as Chat, and when the time is right, I’m going to show her who I really am. Like I said, Marinette deserves everything, and more. And I’m going to make sure I give her just that.”

His kwami gave a begrudging smile. “Good job, kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooh! This was a difficult chapter! Poor Adrien! Stuck in a rut! And it's only been three days! Three days and he ends up like this! My poor sunshine child deserves happiness! Don't worry. Things will get better for the both of them.


	19. Relationship Advice From A Tiny Bug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

Marinette was quiet, as she got ready for class the next morning, and Tiki peeked out from the pink clutch purse Marinette had made when she was thirteen. 

“Marinette, please talk to me. Something’s been bothering you. I know something’s bothing you so don’t brush it off. Talk to me.” Tiki pleaded.

Marinette bit her lip, giving a sigh as she sat down on her chaise.

“Is it Adrien?” Tiki asked.

“No – it’s actually Chat Noir.”

Tiki paused for a moment then gave a knowing sound, flying out of her bag.

“You’re still worried about what he said to you. I heard everything, Marinette.”

Her chosen nodded. “ I don’t quite understand what he meant about – ‘I’ll be waiting for you’. And secondly, why was he so adamant about me being with Adrien?”

Tiki shook her head, her blue eyes just as confused as Marinette’s. “I honestly have no idea why he said that or what he’s thinking. I wish I could give you advice or help you on this, but this is the first time I have no idea what your partner is trying to get at. He sounded so earnest – like he really wanted you to not give up on Adrien.”

“I mean; I still feel bad for him. I feel … guilty. Especially about the fact that he doesn’t know who I really am, that I’m in fact his partner. What makes matters worse is I’ve known for a long time that he’s been in love with Ladybug, my superhero self. But - ”

“… But you could never return it because you were in love with Adrien. You still are.”

Marinette nodded, looking at the hands, sadly. “I – it’s not that I don’t love Chat. There are times that I really do love him, despite how annoying he is at times. However – ”

“Your feelings for Adrien were so much stronger. Are they still?” 

“Yeah. I thought I would have gotten over him by now. But I guess I was wrong. I think I’m even more in love with him now than I had been when I was fifteen. I’m not sure if that’s possible.”

Tiki gave her chosen a comforting smile, “Feelings of affection for another, often mature and grow over time. That’s not a bad thing. And I know you missed him greatly.”

“It wouldn’t be a bad thing if I hadn’t missed Chat just as much.” Marinette mumbled.

“Of course you missed your partner, Marinette.”

But her chosen shook her head quickly. “No – not as Ladybug. But … but as me. I never really got to understand Chat as Ladybug. I was too concerned about keeping my identity a secret, as I fended off his flirty advances. But Chat is so different around me when I’m just myself. He’s a lot more … affectionate, and sincere. And gentle. Yeah – he’s still silly but beneath that, he’s incredibly kind and caring.”

“Marinette … is it possible that you’re beginning to have feelings for Chat?”

Marinette stared glumly at her kwami. And her kwami nuzzled her cheek. 

“Oh Marinette. It’s going to be alright.”

“No – no it’s not.”

“How so?”

“These feelings I have – they’re not just some little crush. I … I think I’ve fallen for him.”

Tiki stared wide eyes. “But I thought that you loved Adrien. And even if you didn’t, you’ve always wanted to remain friends with Chat. You never wanted anything more.”

“That was just as Ladybug. Because I know he loves Ladybug. Ladybug, Tiki. Not me. He loves the superhero. He could never love the girl beneath the mask. He’d be so disappointed. That’s why I didn’t want him getting too close. He couldn’t love someone like me if he actually found out my true identity. But his visits during my final years of school, getting to really know him, becoming friends with him … I never realised just how much I needed him in my life.”

“The same way as you did Adrien?”

“Adrien – Adrien was my true love in school. I still think he is. My heart still goes crazy whenever I’m with him. I was saddened when he left. But when Chat told me he was leaving, I … I just felt empty. Like I was missing something. Not just my partner, but my best friend, and most trusted companion.”

“Marinette …”

“And when he said – ‘I’ll be waiting here.’ I just … I don’t know. My heart sort of leapt at the idea that if Adrien never returned his feelings, then that would be okay. I know at least that I tried my hardest. And I would have Chat, who’d be willing to wait for me. I don’t know if Adrien can ever like me completely. He doesn’t know me. I’ve never given him the chance to get to know me because I’m always a stuttering and nervous wreck around him. But Chat – he’s seen both sides of me. He’s seen me as Ladybug; he’s seen me as myself. Oh, I don’t know what to do, Tiki!”

“But Chat Noir is the one that told you to keep trying, to not give up on Adrien.”

“I know – and that’s why I’m so confused. Do I keep trying with Adrien, or do I simply accept that being in love at fifteen isn’t the same as being in love as an adult? Should I simply let Adrien go, so I can be with the one person that’s always been there for me.”

“Marinette, love is a strange emotion. If you want my advice – I think you should wait before you jump to any conclusions on who you’re really in love with.”

“What – so just take my time? Leave it at that as I pine over the one man I’ve always been in love with whilst second guess myself that maybe he isn’t the one for me because I also happen to have feelings for my partner and my closest friend?”

“What I’m saying is, you’re only twenty-one. You have all the time in the world to fall in love. Don’t think you have to love someone right away when there are other things going on in your life. You’ve got university; you’ve got your life as a designer. You’ve got your casual job at that café. You have your friends and family. Don’t expect that also means you have to find someone to love in that same amount of time. The person you end up loving for the rest of your life, will come to you.”

“But – my feelings for both Adrien and Chat. How am I going to deal with them? I’m Adrien’s dance partner after all, and it’s difficult to supress my feelings for him then. He makes me feel so alive, so beautiful, wanted. As for Chat, I see him as Ladybug and the times he visits me in the evening. Chat makes me feel normal, accepted, needed and safe. I trust and care so much for both of them.”

“Just let things fall into place. Things will sort themselves out. Don’t feel like you’re the only one that has to fix things, when at most times, things fix themselves.”

“Tiki, I …”

“I know you’re feeling very torn about this, Marinette but it’s going to be alright.”

“So what – I just play them both out?”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all, Marinette.” Her kwami said crossly.

Marinette’s shoulders slumped as she pushed her hair out of her conflicted blue eyes. 

“Sorry, Tiki. I’m just so confused.”

“If you’re really confused, why not talk to Chat about it? After all, he’s the one that started this whole thing in the first place?”

Marinette looked at her kwami, uncertainty and apprehension dawning on her face.

“I know you’re uncomfortable about this, but it’s best to talk things through with him; get it out in the open. You can’t keep something like this locked inside or it will eat you up. You’ve already got so many other things to deal with right now. Don’t let this be another concern you have to worry about.”

“But – “ Marinette tried to say but Tiki gently cut her off.

“I’m not finished, Marinette. Love will come to you; you don’t come to it. And I think that the person you end up truly falling in love with, is going to come into your life in a way you really won’t expect it. But trying to figure out who you’re supposed to love with right now, practically carving a path out on who you should be with, isn’t going to solve things. Things happen for a reason, Marinette. So let them.”

“And Chat and Adrien?”

“Alright, Marinette – who do you really care about? Who do you truly love?” Tiki said folding her arms as she gave her chosen a very, very intense stare.

“I – I don’t know! I can’t choose.” Marinette whispered. What kind of answer was that? Neither Adrien nor Chat Noir deserved to be with someone as stupid as her. The tears that had dotted her eyes had begun to slowly drip down her cheeks, towards her chin. She had never felt more torn than she did that very moment. More than that, she felt selfish, incredibly selfish. And she hated herself for it.

“Exactly!”

“Wait – huh?"

“You’re too confused about hurting both of their feelings, whilst at the same time you haven’t even been in any sort of relationship yet. You’re conflicted about things that have yet to happen in your life. Listen, Adrien and Chat Noir have only recently returned to Paris. What I suggest you do is firstly, talk to Chat about what happened on the balcony. Secondly, allow things to happen. Don’t force circumstance or events. If Adrien falls in love with you and you still have strong feelings for him, then that’s how it should be. Chat will understand. He's always going to be your partner. And if Adrien doesn’t return your feelings, and you still don’t have feelings for Chat, then nothing has changed. Chat will still be there for you. But if your feelings have indeed changed and grown for Chat Noir, then you’ve learned that love at first sight is very different to finding love in a very close friend. You can start afresh. But don’t force yourself into any sort of relationship when you’re not mentally prepared for it. Do you understand me? Things like this simply happen because they’re supposed to. And all you can do is figure out what you’re supposed to do at that present moment. This is not something you can mentally and emotionally prepare for, let alone physically.”

“I … yes, Tiki. I understand.”

“And promise me that you’ll talk to Chat about your last conversation. That’s the most important thing you have to do.”

Marinette gave a final sigh, wiping away the tears that had now stained her cheeks.

“I – okay, Tiki. I’ll talk to him the next time he comes.” Marinette said softly. “Thank you.”

Tiki gave her chosen a comforting hug. Honestly, her chosen was far too kind and concerned about everyone else, she had the tendency to over think things. But she still adored her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's not forget our beloved Marinette is also struggling with her own thoughts and feelings. Thankfully, mommy Tiki is there to lend a tiny helping hand.


	20. The Drawing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

Marinette sat at one of the many benches of her university café, chewing the end of her pencil as she tried to concentrate on her designs. Thankfully, her elective tutor had loved the concept of creating a costume for a Bachata performance, though having to show a video example of the dance style she learned almost had her crawling under the seat. Almost. But she had held her ground, though her dignity had long gone by the end of class. She had wanted to continue sketching potential designs, had it not been for Tiki’s earlier advice. She had been completely distracted throughout her class, her kwami’s previous words plaguing her thoughts and halting her inspiration and creativity. 

Marinette gave a groan, finally putting her pencil down. She just couldn’t focus on her work, far too agitated to design calmly and rationally. All she had managed to draw on the white pages were a couple of scribbles and a very misshaped-looking bird that appeared to be in the middle of an existential crisis.

Her phone buzzed and she gave a frown. Her parents were out of the city catering to a very client. They had even closed the bakery that day, and they often didn’t call her unless there was an emergency. She deduced it was either her work asking her to take an extra shift, or Alya sending her another fox meme. And she picked up her phone – only to find herself falling off the seat bench giving a yelp in surprise. She had almost thrown her phone across the grass.

 **Hey, Mari – this is Adrien. I got your number from Alya. This makes it easier to contact you about our dance practices. Hope that’s alright.**

Marinette stared at the phone’s screen her blue eyes wide as a furious blush spread across her cheeks. Her heart thumped painfully in her chest as the familiar nervous butterflies began to flutter in the pit of her stomach. What would she type? 

“Just say that the text is fine!” Tiki squeaked from her bag. Sh*t! She had been talking out loud. She quickly typed back a message.

_Hey, this is Marinette. Yes, that’s fine._

“Tiki – Adrien has my number! He has my number!” Marinette squeaked.

“Just remember what we talked about. Don’t rush into things. Let things happen.” Her kwami warned her. She could let her chosen be excited about this, to find happiness wherever she could but she refused to let Marinette jump to any more conclusions.

“I … yeah, Tiki. Let – let things happen. Don’t assume and don’t rush. Love will find me. I don’t find it.” Marinette sighed, closing her eyes as she took a deep breath before exhaling.

“Just answer his texts as if he were your friend, like Alya or Nino. That should help.” Tiki suggested. 

It didn’t take long for Adrien to reply.

 **:)**   **\- How was your elective class? I hope you’re having a good day.**

Marinette bit her lip. Trembling fingers poised at the keys. It took her a good solid minute for her to finally find the courage to reply, Tiki’s words replaying constantly in her head. Putting Tiki’s advice into action was much harder than actually processing it.

_Class went well. I got some good feedback. Now I’m just sitting on the front lawn? You?_

**‘Prac’ class was good. Got a good mark for one of my proposals. Just finished class. What are you up to?**

_Nothing much – sketching ideas for my elective costume. Got some ideas, but having a mental block._

**Hate those, especially when writing an essay. Hate essays. :/**

Marinette found herself laughing at the text. It was simple enough but she could practically picture Adrien’s face as he typed the sentence, beautiful green eyes creasing into a frown as he pouted at the thought of having to write endless amounts of dry tedious words.

_I hate them too. Especially when you had a really good point, then forget it._

**So what are you designing for your elective exactly?**

_A dance costume._

**Oh – Bachata?** ****

Marinette blushed, frowning slightly – wait, how did he know? She hadn’t told him yet … unless she had mentioned it without realising.

_Yes – How did you know?_

Marinette waited for him to respond. It took a fair minute until her phone buzzed.

**A certain ‘someone’ might have mentioned it in passing conversation.**

_It was Alya – wasn’t it?_

**She didn’t do it on purpose, I just overheard it in a conversation, that’s all.**

Unknown to Marinette, on the other side of town, that particular ‘someone’ was almost close to smacking his forehead against the table he now sat at. Adrien groaned at the stupid and lame attempt he called a ‘save’. He shouldn’t have been so careless in such a casual conversation most of all with someone like Marinette. Of course he knew what the costume was for. He had found out about it earlier, but during an evening he had acquired an extra set of appendages and a black leather mask. He shouldn’t have used Marinette’s elective costume as a conversation starter; it was a stupid mistake, and a dangerous one.

His phone buzzed.

_Yeah – actually I have a question about it if that’s okay._

**What’s the question?**

_This costume, well, it has to be worn by a dancer, physically used. And … I was wondering if I could make it for our performance. I have to submit a video showing the final costume being worn, so I was thinking of wearing my final design. Is that okay?_

Adrien found himself smiling. Did she really need to ask?

 **Of course it’s okay. It would be amazing to see what kind of costume you create for it. If that’s the case I’ll have to find something that matches it.**

_Actually, my tutor wants me to make the costume for my dance partner too, now that I’ve told him my idea. Are you okay with that_?

**Wait – you want to make me a performance costume?**

_Only if you’re okay with it!_

Adrien’s cheeks warmed, eyes shy as he pictured Marinette’s pretty freckled face blushing furiously as she typed nervously on the keypad of her phone. The image was particularly endearing.

**I’d be honoured to wear something of yours.**

_Wait – really?_

**Of course, Marinette. The answer is yes.**

_OMG! THANK YOU ADRIEN! THANK YOU!_

**Anytime, Mari. So do you need to get my measurements or anything?**

_Oh – yeah, that would be very helpful. I need them as soon as possible._

**Want me to stop buy at your place?**

On the other side of town, Marinette’s heart flipped in her chest.

_Sure! That would be really helpful._

**Kay, meet you in an hour?**

_Yes, I’m heading home right now._

**See you later then.**

_Bye :)_

**:)**

\----

 

Bye the time Adrien arrived it had started pouring down with rain. It came down in heavy sheets, violently hitting the windows. The news had said it was going to rain in the late afternoon and into the night and Marinette was sorely tempted to give patrol a miss. She had to finish off the final detailing of her major work, anyway. Marinette blushed a bright pink when Adrien stood outside her door, his bright evergreen eyes matching the warmth of his smile. Then she frowned.

“You’re soaking wet.” She said flatly.

“Yeah – didn’t think of packing an umbrella today.” Adrien said sheepishly rubbing his neck. He shook his hair, water droplets flying everywhere from his now a dark brownish-gold from the rain. His clothes felt heavy and were sticking to him. He was only thankful his laptop bag was waterproof. 

“Come inside.” Marinette urged him in quickly. Adrien took off his shoes not wanting to tread mud through her house, as she quickly ran off only to come back with a large towel.

“You can dry off with this. If you’re clothes are really wet you can borrow some of my dad’s. I can put your clothes in the drier.”

Adrien smiled, his evergreen eyes warm. “Thanks – but I should be okay.”

He took the towel from her and started rubbing his hair before draping it around himself.

“Would you like something to eat?”

“Yeah, I could eat something. Essays always make me hungry?” he answered, following her to the kitchen after he shut the door.

“Sweet or savoury?”

“One after the other, preferably not both at once.”

Marinette giggled. “Same with the chocolate?”

“Yup." 

“Well – I’ll make sure it’s warm.”

He sat down at the kitchen counter, placing his computer bag on the ground. She had been working in here before he arrived, her sketches and notes lying across the table along with several fabric samples and a sewing box.

“So any ideas of what kind of costume you’re making?” The delicious smell of warm pumpkin soup filled the kitchen and his stomach growled loudly.

Marinette gave soft laugh as Adrien hugged his stomach, bashful.

“Yeah, a few.” She placed a bowl of soup in front of him, handing him a spoon. “We baked these bread rolls today so they’re really fresh.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Adrien smiled as she sat down next to him.

“Bon apetite.”

They ate in comfortable silence, both of them content with filling their bellies first as the rain continued, the wind now howling.

“Wow – it’s gotten really dark. It’s only just past two.” Adrien had just noticed when the room seemed much darker than usual and Marinette quickly turned on some lights.

“Yeah … I hope my parents are going to be okay getting back in this weather.” She said, her eyes creasing in concern as she stared out the window.

“Out making a delivery?”

“Hmmm – usually I take care of the bakery when they make deliveries but this one was a special case, a particularly long one so the shop’s closed until they get back. They’re supposed to be back around dinner time.”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

“The weather’s not supposed to ease up until the next morning though.”

He gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “They’ll be fine, Marinette. Don’t worry.”

“Thanks, Adrien.”

Both of them quickly finished off their soup, as well as another bread roll each before Adrien helped Marinette with the dishes. As they cleaned, they chatted about normal things, what they did in university, their thoughts on students and their tutors, meaningless boring topics for a conversation but pleasant all the same. Finally he sat down, looking at the many designs she had drawn, fascinated by the different patterns, shapes and colours that decorated the white pages. Marinette was exceptionally talented and incredibly modest about her work but like any designer she deserved to be proud of her accomplishments.

“What design do you have in mind? Any concepts?” he asked her again, both of them sitting down as they both drank a cup of white-hot chocolate, Marinette had quickly whipped up.

“Well – I do but I’m kind of tentative about it and it's just an idea, nothing set.”

“What is it that you want to do for your project?”

“Well before I start working on anything I want to get the ‘theme’ of the costume right. Since I’m designing something for you two people, I want to create an outfit that works as a ‘couple’ rather than them being individual costumes. But at the same time, I don’t want them to be exactly the same. They’re different. They’re going to be worn by two different people, after all, but they have elements that tie both costumes together. Sorry if the explanations a bit … off. I’m still working on it.” Marinette explained.

Adrien nodded. “Hmm – sort of like a Yin and Yang effect?”

“Yeah.”

“So what’s the ‘theme’ you have to portray in these costumes?”

Marinette blushed bright red, as she looked away bashfully. “Oh … ‘romance and love’. I have to create a costume for a dance style you wouldn’t expect to represent the following theme ... So I ended up choosing Bachata as my final dance style." 

Adrien gave a soft chuckle. “Well isn’t that ironic. And a brilliant opportunity for you. Bachata is the perfect dance style. It also helps that the ‘theme’ we’re trying to perform ourselves, revolves around something very similar.” 

“Heh – yeah. Hence why I chose it.”

“Well, you’re the designer. What do you want your costumes to express? The dance is the story, the costume helps reflect that?" 

“Story?”

Adrien nodded. “We have a ‘goal’: a message or concept we plan on showcasing to the audience during the night we perform. Our concept and goal is to show that a dance style as sensual and as intimate as Bachata is far more romantic and tender than what meets the eye, and that there’s so much more involved than just ‘hip swaying’ and ‘body rolling’. Our dance will be the language that tells that story. Your costumes will act as a sort of visual interpretation they’ll help tell and promote that story.”

Marinette thought for a moment. “Okay … so I can almost use us as characters, and my costumes are like the ‘pictures’ of a story book. 

“In a way, yes. So I guess, the best question to ask is, what do you or more specifically, your ‘character’, want from this? Who is she and how does she feel whenever she dances to Bachata? Your costume has to visually reflect that.”

Marinette pondered for a moment, flipping through her designs, before pausing, a light pink tinting her freckled face. Adrien’s heart fluttered. Why did she have to look so cute when she blushed?

“I do have a costume idea: it kinda fits the story we want to tell. But I’m not sure if it’s a bit … cheesy or silly. Oh, I don’t know. It’s really embarrassing, actually.”

Marinette picked up a black folder, and carefully took an A3 drawing out of it. She held it upright, purposely angling it so he couldn’t see what was on the other side. And Adrien’s curiosity gnawed at the back of his mind. 

“Try me.”

“Okay, before I show you this, let me set the scenario.”

“I’m listening.”

Marinette took a deep breath, “Let’s say my character, she – the costume she wears is reminiscent of someone very ordinary, just a normal girl. She’s unassuming. But the dress suddenly transforms into a visual representation of how she feels whenever she dances Bachata.”

“Thus fitting with our theme of how we feel whenever we dance to that style.”

Marinette continued, blue bell eyes darkening to a softer indigo as she gazed at her drawing.

“She feels beautiful, she feels sexy; she feels … uh … well the need to be intimate, and wanted. And she’s not ashamed of it. And the dress sort of transforms into a visual interpretation of that.”

Adrien raised an eyebrow. “The need to be intimate?”

“I … I’m not going to explain anymore. Bad idea.” Marinette said quickly, burying her face into the paper she held. Adrien had no doubt that she was blushing.

He neatly plucked the drawing straight from Marinette’s hands, turning it around to see her design. 

“Hey!” his dance partner gave a shriek trying to get the drawing back but he was taller than her, and stronger. With one arm he easily held her back, as he finally looked at the design. 

Only, it wasn’t. And evergreen eyes widened in utmost astonishment. This wasn’t a design. It was a drawing. It was a coloured pastel drawing of two people, their faces obscured and merely gestural. They were meant to be anonymous. The female was raven-haired. The male was blonde, his hair messy and tousled. They were dancing, held together in a very sensual pose as if pausing to share a brief moment to feel each other’s warmth and intimacy. The woman’s back was pressed against the man’s chest, whilst her partner held her close in a strong but tender embrace. Her face was angled slightly towards her left, allowing the male to bend forward and nuzzle his face against her throat. The male wore a costume of all black. It was form fitting, simple but elegant, capturing his tall and lithe form. He wore black pants and a black long sleeved shirt, but with soft warm pink accents and patterns on the collar and running down side of his shirt. The female wore a beautiful pink costume with black work incorporated into the design, with long sleeves and delicate cut outs, revealing the sides of her waist, in a tantalising but still very elegant manner. The female had guided her partner’s hands to the right side of her hip, trusting him absolutely as he gently untied her skirt for her, which swung into a beautiful black and pink side train down the length of her thigh. The gesture was simple but powerful. In one simple pose, he could feel the sensuality, the trust, the desire and the romance radiate from the couple brought to life on the piece of paper he held. And Adrien’s heart quickened, a blush staining his own face. The drawing was absolutely stunning. And it felt absolutely familiar. The woman was Marinette. The male … it was him. It was Chat Noir.

He hadn’t noticed Marinette had stopped trying to get her drawing back. She sat down on her kitchen stool, burying her face into her hands. She was completely mortified.

“I was meant to draw a design but it turned into, well … that.” She muttered into her hands. Marinette couldn’t look at him. She just wanted the floor to swallow her.

“Marinette … this drawing, it’s so beautiful.” Adrien murmured.

Marinette looked up at him hesitantly. He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t angry either. His beautiful green eyes had softened as he stared at her with a gentle gaze.

“R-really?” she asked shyly.

“Really.”

And it was beautiful. He wasn’t just being honest. It was an amazing piece of artwork from a technical standpoint. It had been beautifully composed, Marinette’s talent, not only a designer but as an artist, completely evident in her drawing. But the concept was so stunning, so romantic. It truly was a stunning drawing.

“But the pose is so – ”

“Beautiful, intimate, sensual … full of trust and devotion. Romantic. What’s the story behind it?”

Marinette blushed as she spoke shyly. “Well – the girl, I guess she feels embarrassed and self-conscious about, well, the certain aspects we’ve already discussed whenever she dances such a passionate and seductive style. But there’s one man she absolutely trusts. She adores him even. Because she knows he’ll never look down on her, he’ll never tease her about her feelings, her desires her needs even; emotional, physical … and sexual.”

She could feel her face grow hotter at that final part. Adrien said nothing. He only listened.

“Go on. What about the man in this picture?” He said quietly.

“Well, he doesn’t see her as silly or stupid about feeling how she does. He isn’t disgusted by what she feels and wants either. He finds it fascinating and he sees her as beautiful. He sees a girl that wants to experience, darker more hidden things, things she’s ashamed of but he reminds her that it’s okay to feel like that. And what she feels doesn’t make her a bad person. It only makes her human; that it only makes her even more beautiful and seductive to his eyes. And I guess, that pose, him helping her ‘take off her skirt’ and transform her dress into something far more sensual to match the style they’re dancing to, is kind of a reminder of that. It’s also symbolic of the girl’s personal transformation, from the person people know her as to the person the man knows she truly is. On the outside, people see her as this ‘perfect’ sort of person. But only he knows how she is underneath the façade. And she only ever intends to show him, this side of her. It’s something that 'they' can only share. Both of them know each other’s true selves, their other sides, parts of them that they would only hide from other people … but not to each other. It’s not secretive, but something far more binding than that. She trusts him, he trusts her. That closeness and that intimacy, allows both of them to share each other’s desires, needs, fears, insecurities and wants. It brings them closer together. He has her consent, she knows he would never hurt or frighten her. They have faith in each another. They believe in one another … they’re in love.”

Adrien said nothing, watching Marinette with a stare she could not fathom. Her heart ached, butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

“Marinette,” Adrien’s voice was soft as he spoke, and Marinette waited with baited breath, her heart coming to a stop.

“I want you to create these costumes for us.”


	21. I've Got You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

Marinette struggled to concentrate as she quickly noted the various different measurements she needed for Adrien’s costume. She had started at the top, trembling hands hesitantly brushing and holding the tape measure on different parts of Adrien’s body, as she slowly working downwards. If Adrien knew just how embarrassed and nervous she was, he said nothing about it. In fact, he seemed quite comfortable letting Marinette get very close to him as she measured his shoulders, his waist, and his height. Though he had sniggered a little when he saw the blue bell eyed girl frown slightly when she had to step on the tips of her toes for that. Watching her lovely dusty-pink freckled cheeks was always a joy to witness. And she smelled wonderful … wait. Had he actually been ‘smelling’ her? He remembered the soft scent of musk and strawberries, most likely from a body lotion mixed with something else he couldn’t quite determine. Then he mentally kicked himself, trying to focus on the rainstorm outside. He had no explanation ready should Marinette discover his cat side had caused him to start sniffing her, right out of the blue. 

As for Marinette, getting on her hands and knees, her face a mere inch away from Adrien’s crotch had not been something she had ever considered doing in the near future. She fought back the blush that had already tinted her cheeks as she gently pressed the tape measure to his left hip, pulling it taught all the way to his feet.

“I’m sorry that you have to stand like this for so long.” Marinette murmured, attempting to break the awkward silence.

“No problem. I’ve had people take my measurements before. It’s a common thing when you do fashion shoots, so I’m pretty used to it. I just hope your knees don’t get too sore.”

Oh, right. Adrien was a model after all, hence why he seemed so at ease with her touching various parts of his body, something she had secretly dreamed about since she was fifteen.

“No, no! I’m okay, kneeling. I mean – it’s not like I haven’t done this before?”

Adrien gave a chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood considering how miserable it was outside. 

“Kneeling? Or being forced to stare at a guy’s lower half for several minutes.” He teased gently.

Marinette gave up fighting the blush that had suddenly flushed across her face like a wildfire. 

“I – uh! Kneeling! I don’t look at guy’s crotches! I mean it’s not something I’d do on a regular occassion! It – it’s inappropriate. Not saying … I mean, you have a pretty nice front side from this position … Wait … No! I mean ... Oh f*ck me!” 

Marinette clamped her hands across her mouth stopping herself from uttering another word. It was official. She was the worst, most embarrassing and most cringe-worthy person to have ever existed. No doubt Adrien was smirking, tying to suppress a laugh. 

Only he wasn’t. Adrien’s face had grown bright red, her words slowly sinking in. And with Marinette on the ground right in front of him, resting on her knees, she was the perfect level for … Adrien quickly tried to supress the darker and more sinful images that had infiltrated his mind. The very thought of his ‘Princess’ on her hands and knees, blue eyes a dark lapis lazuli and hazy from lust, eagerly reaching towards his lower half, licking her luscious lips with the tip of her tongue, about to – No! Stop! He couldn’t think those things now! Not like this! And certainly not of Marinette doing ‘those’ kinds of things to him. He was only thankful his companion had buried her flushed face into her hands, refusing to look back at him. If she had, she would have come face to face with a very embarrassing bulge that had suddenly begun to tent in the front of his jeans. 

Cold showers! Cold showers and Ms. Beauclaire dancing naked in the street on a cold winter morning, he thought frantically! Anything to get his lower-half under control again. Thankfully, the image of his very old, very fat and very grumpy linguistics tutor from when he was fifteen seemed to do the trick fairly well. Marinette never even noticed his slight predicament.

“Uh … I’d prefer to buy you dinner and flowers before we get to that stage.” Adrien chuckled nervously, sighing with relief as the sudden urge in his groin disappeared.

Marinette on the other hand froze at the last comment, feeling her embarrassment and mortification spread up towards her ears and down her neck. Why of why had she said that last part?! And of all things, he had to reply with … that!!!

“God! This is embarrassing.” She muttered, busying herself with her final notes, as she jotted down Adrien’s leg measurements in her notebook.

Neither of them said anything at first, the tension very awkward and uncomfortable. 

“Uh – that should be it.” Marinette began slowly, still mortified. “I’m – I’m going to start working on the patterns but I’ll need to, um, test some fabric out for the costumes before I start making them fully. I’m not sure on the best materials for dance costumes are so I need t- ”

Marinette never even finished her sentence. A loud clap of thunder and lightning interrupted her mid-speech. Embarrassment, mortification and any signs of awkwardness vanished into thin air when the apartment lights flickered out, dousing the living room in complete darkness.

“Uh, oh.” Adrien said, as he looked outside. The rainstorm was torrential, coming down fast as heavy clouds blackened the sky, fast winds howling and tearing at the trees on the pavement.

Marinette quickly scrambled up from the floor.

“Oh, no! The bakery! I need to see if the reserve generator is on!” She panicked, rushing to the front foor.

“I’ll join you.” Adrien said, following her quickly. They both rushed out of the apartment, Marinette practically sprinting down the stairs that Adrien struggled to keep up with her, worried that she would trip and fall. But she stopped mid-way on the steps. Adrien had barely been able to stop himself from bumping into her. Rather than tumbling the rest of the way down, both of them stood silent, staring in shock at the ground floor where the front entrance was. It had completely flooded.

“Sh*t! The bakery!” Marinette swore.

And without a second thought, she rushed into the thunderstorm outside, the water up to her knees as another wave of water rushed into the building.

“Marinette! Wait!” he called to her, blindly following her into the storm. Adrien was met by a torrent of cold rain that fell heavily from the sky. It immediately soaked him through, his once semi-dry clothes, quickly sticking to his body. Not a single spot of him was dry and he was soaked to the skin in a mere second, the rain chilling his bones. Squinting to keep the rain and now his sopping dark messy blonde strands from his eyes, he rushed as fast as he could through the flooded streets. Around the corner he found Marinette fumbling at the front door of the bakery. She opened it. 

Even the wailing winds couldn’t stop Adrien hearing the single word that fell softly from her lips. He couldn’t see her expression, as her face was turned away from him. But when Marinette uttered a soft ‘no’, he knew it couldn’t be good. He followed her back inside the building. And his eyes widened in horror.

The interior of the bakery had completely flooded, the water rising well past their knees. They waded through ruined pastries and bread rolls, kitchen ingredients, wet napkins, bags of flour and other utensils. With the door open, fresh storm water flooded inside, bringing garbage and mud into the bakery. A heavy tree branch had smashed through one of the windows, knocking over several items, and glassware. There was smashed pieces glass and crockery everywhere. Wind and rain continuously poured through the window, bringing in even more uncontrollable amounts of debris. With no electricity, the place was bathed in darkness. Cold, cruel darkness. 

As the rain howled outside, the two of them stood in unbearable silence. Adrien gazed in horror at the once beautiful bakery he had grown so fond of, now in absolute ruin from the storm. Then, the silence was interrupted by the sound of very soft crying. Adrien turned to Marinette, and he felt his heart break.

Marinette had hunched over, curling in on herself as she buried her face into her hands. Hot tears soon turned into uncontrollable sobs as her entire body began to shudder violently from the unbearable scene that she now found herself in. With her clothes absolutely drenched, her dark hair hanging limply against her face, she was cold, miserable, and utterly distraught, mirroring the desolate thunderstorm outside. Marinette wept bitterly, she couldn’t stop, her chest beginning to hurt from crying too much. Unable to hold herself up, her legs suddenly gave way and she fell to her knees, splashing hard into the dirty frigid rainwater, submerged by the remnants of her family’s bakery. She couldn’t stop the sobs and the wails that fell from her mouth. Her cries wracked in her chest causing her to gasp and painfully wheeze from the horrification of it all.

“How?!” she wept into her hands. “It will take weeks to fix all of this, to get the bakery running again! My parents worked so hard to put their dream together! Now … it’s gone. All of it! How can we afford to fix all of this?!”

Adrien said nothing. With every word she struggled to say through her tears, his already breaking heart was getting heavier with guilt and concern. Yet he found he couldn’t say a single word. Every word of comfort he had wanted to say had caught in his throat. He couldn’t speak. An attempt to apologise or offer words of meaningless assurance seemed absolutely pointless.

So he did the only thing he could do. Wading towards Marinette, he crouched, kneeling until the cold water came up to his waist. He said nothing as he took his trembling broken princess into his arms, holding her tight to his chest.

She never pushed him away. Instead, she clung to his shirt, sobbing even harder. She was absolutely freezing. 

The need to hold and comfort Marinette whenever she was sad or distressed had never felt stronger. Instinct guided him as he gently rocked the girl in his arms, stroking her wet hair, hushing her, urging for Marinette to calm her breathing. He wished he could fix this. He desired nothing more than to make everything right, again. But not even Chat Noir had the power and the strength to fight nature itself. He was nothing more than short of helpless that very moment. And he wanted nothing more to make things right for her.

Adrien pressed a soft kiss to Marinette’s wet hair. She was still weeping in his arms so he cradled her small body against his own. She had never felt so tiny, so frail … so vulnerable as she did now.

“Shhh. I’ve got you.” He murmured, kissing her forehead this time, as it continued to storm outside. Her skin felt like ice against his lips. How could he say ‘sorry’ at something like this? How could he promise that things were going to be okay, that everything would be alright when in truth he had no idea if he could make things right? All he could do was hold her, stroke her trembling back in soothing circles. He kept pressing kisses to her hair and her forehead, silent promises to tell her that she wasn’t alone in this; that he was there for her. Unconsciously, he hummed a melody, soft and steady, whispering the familiar Spanish lyrics of their song against her skin. He felt her flinch in his arms, recognising the gentle melody, but she didn’t move away. Instead, her crying slowly began to subside, the sweet sound calming her. Submerged in the water, he held her, and he had no intentions of leaving.

“It’s alright, Mari. I’m here.” He promised, and he would keep making that promise.

Marinette’s sobbing had receded to soft whimpers and shuddering gasps. 

“Adrien …” she whispered. She sounded so broken. And the final pieces of Adrien’s heart finally broke. Hearing Marinette so sad, so utterly defeated … he just couldn’t bear it. But he had to be strong, for her, for the both of them. He couldn’t give up. Not yet.

“I’m – I’m sorry!” She buried her face into his chest, fearing that he was just a dream. That the only person grounding her would suddenly vanish, that she would be left alone in all of this. The thought terrified her.

“I’ve got you, Marinette. I’m never going to leave you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow - I'm horrible! I start off awkwardly sweet then end the chapter on a very sad depressing note! I keep doing horrible things to these two. First conflicted emotions and guilt-trips, and now this! I am the absolute worst! :3


	22. Promise That You’ll Look After Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

Adrien hurried back inside Marinette’s apartment as fast as he could with the broken girl in his arms. She was shivering against him; mute, still in shock. She felt so light in his arms, barely existent. Her skin felt like ice. Her breathing had turned shallow and far too quiet for his liking. She was absolutely freezing and he had to get her warm. It had grown even darker inside the apartment and Adrien struggled to find his phone, which he had left on the kitchen bench. With Marinette in his arms, he found it difficult to manoeuvre his way in the darkened space without tripping or slipping on anything.

“Bathroom.” He grit, trying to keep her close to his chest, giving her the little body warmth he had left.

“Downstairs.” She whispered. She sounded so frail, so weak. And his heart ached for the girl in his arms.

Struggling to turn the flashlight on his phone, he followed her instruction, carrying her down stairs quickly, whilst praying that the reserve generator also applied to the apartment’s hot water supply. He had no doubt the tiny kwami in his school bag had wondered where he’d gone off to, perhaps demanding some sort of retribution but Plagg would come later. He had to take care of the girl in his arms.

Thankfully the bathroom was within reach, the door slightly ajar and he kicked it open with his foot. Setting his phone on the sink, he brought the shivering girl in his arms to the large shower. Very gently he placed her on the tiled floor. The room was still dark yet there was just enough light to cast the bathroom in dark dismal and oppressive shadows. Marinette had gone limp, a mere ghost of herself. And Adrien’s felt his heart clench painfully in his chest. He would get her warm soon, as he quickly turned on the water. It ran cold.

“Come on! Come on! Get warm!” he snarled in frustration. 

What seemed like an eternity was, in fact only several minutes. But very slowly the frigid water that mirrored the rain outside began to turn lukewarm, and finally a pleasant soft heat. Careful not to make it too hot, it was soon the perfect temperature.

Picking the girl up again, he carefully held Marinette, cradling her into his arms once more as he sat on the floor with her. Then he moved into the warmth of the shower.

His entire body shuddered from the sudden change in temperature, the water feeling much hotter than it truly was but he grit his teeth, braving the initial burning sting. Slowly his body got used to it, his frigid and frozen muscles and joints, loosening from the massaging warmth that cascaded onto his body. Marinette whimpered in his arms, the heat too much for her. But Adrien gently hushed her, ensuring his body sheltered her from the first contact. Marinette’s body slowly began to relax in his arms and in the darkness Adrien could just make out some sort of colour on the girl’s cheeks. Her eyes fluttered hazily, blinking from the water, the once dull blue slowly began to shine once more. And Adrien sighed in relief. His princess was okay; she was alright for now.

“Mari, you’re okay. Now we’re going to stay in the shower for a little longer. Then I need you to take off your clothes and I’m going to wrap you into a towel.”

Marinette gave a soft yelp, eyes suddenly embarrassed. 

“There’s no time to be bashful, Marinette. You can stay in your underwear. But once we get out of the shower, you can’t keep wearing your clothes. You’ll catch a cold.”

Marinette didn’t say anything, her dark hair hanging across her face and neck as she looked hesitantly at him. She still couldn’t speak.

“I want you to stay up here, use my phone to call your parents. Tell them what happened. Stay up here you understand. Do not follow me downstairs into the bakery. I’ll do my best to block off most of the water, see if I can stop any more from entering the café space and bakery.” With the help of Plagg and Cataclysm, if need be.

Marinette gave a slow nod, still unable to stop blushing as Adrien began to help her remove her clothes. Her blazer was peeled away and Adrien flung it unceremoniously to the side with a wet slap. Marinette was still too lethargic to fight against him as he gently raised her arms upwards, so he could easily pull her shirt over her head. And Adrien paused for a moment. In the dim light of the bathroom, Adrien was blushing a soft pink. He gave a soft gulp, not having anticipated the very cute pink and lightly-laced bra that Marinette had sported, tantelisingly hugging the soft swells of her breasts.

“Uhh – jeans, right. Um … could you lift your hips up perhaps?” Adrien muttered, embarrassed. Even with a shower of hot water falling on him he still had the capacity to make a very unfortunate and inappropriate circumstance, exceptionally awkward. Marinette had even crossed her arms, shyly covering her chest, but she did as she was told. With fumbling hands and a hammering heart, Adrien fumbled at the button of Marinette’s jeans.

Relax, Adrien! You’re undressing her because you have to! She’ll die of cold if you don’t! It’s not like you’re undressing her, and she looks so f*cking gorgeous in a pink bra and … oh sh*t. Is – are her panties made of lace? Adrien’s green eyes widened, mouth falling open when he had pushed the heavy wet fabric past her thighs. Her panties were utterly adorable, matching perfectly with Marinette’s bra.

Adrien suddenly wished the shower, was cold.

“A-Adrien.” She said quietly, uncertain. And Adrien wanted to punch himself. There were bigger problems. He had to take care of Marinette. With the shower still raining hot water, he finally managed to peel the final length of heavy wet jean fabric off of Marinette’s calves, easily pulling off her ballet flats along with it.

Finally he turned off the water and Marinette whimpered, missing the warmth. 

“I’ll get you dry.” He assured her, as he quickly stood up to grab a couple of big towels from the side wrack. Wrapping the smaller one around his shoulders quickly, he took the larger of the two and wrapped it around Marinette, quickly, rubbing her down to keep her warm. 

“Do you have a dressing gown I can put you in?” 

Marinette nodded. “The back of the door.”

With ease he scooped Marinette into his arms, and gently placed her on the rim of the tub, the towel still drapped around her, before taking the big fluffy dressing gown and placing it over her shoulders. He then took the towel and wrapped it around her neck, so her wet hair wouldn’t dampen the dressing gown.

“Wh-what about you?” she asked hesitantly.

Adrien smilled gently. “I’m alright. I’ve got this towel. Now, I don’t have much battery left on my phone so you’re going to have to call your parents quickly. Or use yours. Can you stand?”

Marinette hesitated, moving a little to try and balance herself on trembling legs but she lost her footing. Adrien easily caught her.

“It’s okay, I can carry you back upstairs to the living room. Tell me where I can find torches or candles and I’ll light some. You can call your parents after that.”

“Okay.”

It didn’t take them long to get back to the living room. Adrien had quickly dried off as best as he could, having to take of his jeans and leaving him only in his under shirt and boxer-briefs much to Marinette’s extreme embarrassment. He had quickly found candles and matches, and he and Marinette lit enough for Adrien to place around the apartment. The once dismal dark room was now bathed in a soft warm glow. It was strangely comforting and calmed Adrien’s unease. Whilst Marinette busied herself, lighting the final candles for the siting room, Adrien quickly got Plagg, who stared at him with sad and distant green eyes. Adrien gave a slight curt nod to his kwami. Plagg quickly hid in under Adrien’s damp shirt, for once without complaint, waiting to transform his chosen.

“Kay, Marinette – are you able to call your parents for me? Tell them what happened?” Adrien asked her quietly.

Marinette’s eyes tightened, her body flinching, her lower lips trembling. She was struggling not to cry again. Very carefully he placed a kiss to Marinette’s forehead. She didn’t move away from him. Instead, she seemed to welcome the comfort, he willingly gave.

“You can do this, Marinette. It’s okay. Leave the bakery to me. I’ll take care of it.” Adrien said, struggling to put on his soggy jeans again, grimacing at the cold wet feeling on his legs.

As he walked towards the door, Adrien stopped mid-way when she spoke, voice shy and incredibly grateful. 

“Th-thank you, Adrien.” She murmured.

He smiled to himself. “Anything for you, Princess.” He was too quiet for her to hear. 

\-----

Adrien ran his hands through his hair as he collapsed, soaking wet, feverish and completely exhausted onto the couch. When a blanket was gently draped over him, he couldn’t even find the energy to even formulate a coherent sentence. He could only give a slow tired nod of appreciation. 

“Thank you, Adrien. For all that you’ve done.” Sabine said quietly as she sat down next to him. She was so small, smaller than Marinette he barely even noticed her. The reserve generator was on but only a few appliances worked, such as the hot water. The electric oven worked thankfully as did a few lights. But most rooms were still lit by candlelight. It had only just stopped raining and it was already past eleven at night.

Plagg had stayed hidden until Adrien had called him to transform. As Chat Noir, he hated the cold rain. He hated anything wet. Any sane Parisian would have told him to stay indoors, to find shelter, to get out of the torrential rain and the howling winds that still flooded the streets. Cars had turned over, houses, apartment blocks and shop houses like the bakery had been destroyed. Trees had been ripped from the ground and lay carelessly and strewn across the flooded ground.

But Chat did his best, trying to keep any more water from entering the bakery. Flour bags now ruined by the muddy water made a fairly decent replacement for sandbag. He piled them as high as best he could in the front entrance and the broken windows. He sorted through the debris, clearing things out and dumping them out into the rain. He salvaged the cash register and shifted through the floating debris for anymore of the Dupain-Cheng’s earnings, putting them away safely. Anything that could be saved, kitchen utensils, appliances, ingredients that had not yet been spoiled from the flood or the lack of electricity, he kept safe along with the family’s earnings on the highest shelves, to take upstairs later. It was an exhausting job, yet Chat paid no heed to his aching and exhausted body. When removing the heavy tree that had fallen and smashed through one of the windows of the bakery required him to use cataclysm, only then did Chat realise just how long he had been working. The rain had died down somewhat, the clouds still heavy and oppressive. It was pitch black outside. If it hadn’t been for his night vision he wouldn’t have been able to see a thing. It was already evening, his baton flashing the time. He had been at the Dupain-Cheng home for over eight hours, Nino, Kim and Max no doubt worrying about him. He would deal with them later. His Miraculous beeped and he sighed, detransforming. Plagg swirled from his ring, and collapsed onto his shoulder exhausted.

“Nice work, hero.” His kwami had said tiredly.

“I wish I could have done more.”

“You did all that you could, kid.”

Adrien had sighed. “Not enough.”

It was only fifteen minutes later that he saw them, Marinette’s parents wading through the filthy water heartbroken and horrified to see their home, their business, their livelihood completely destroyed. They watched him with sad and somewhat surprised eyes, shocked to see Adrien Agreste filthy, soaked through and wearied, as he struggled to hold some of the salvaged goods in his arms. Adrien hadn’t been able to say any words of comfort. He was too exhausted, too tired to offer any condolences. He could only stare at them with drained miserable eyes, before stumbling into Tom’s arms.

Now here he was sitting with Marinette’s parents on either side of him.

“Marinette told us what you did – how much you helped her.” Sabine said quietly. 

“We owe you so much, my boy. How can we ever repay you?” Tom asked him.

Adrien only shook his head. “You don’t need to repay me anything. I – I only wish I could have done more.”

“You did more than we could have ever hoped for. Thank you, Adrien. It’s a joy to see you again, considering everything.” Sabine said sadly.

“H-How’s Marinette?” he asked, tentatively.

“Marinette’s in her room. She’s – well, she’s supposed to be sleeping. I’ve no doubt she’s eavesdropping on this conversation.” Tom added lightly, voice low.

“I – I’m so sorry about the bakery. I saved as much as I could. And all the money I did find is in that jar over there, safe.”

“Again – thank you, Adrien. Though, even with insurance and our savings, it’s going to take a while to get back on our feet again.” Tom said sadly.

“Wait – you’re not insured?”

“We are, just not everything in our bakery is covered.” Sabine said sadly, “And just remodelling as well as getting new ingredients and new utensils and appliances to replace the ones ruined by the flood is going to be costly.” Sabin added, voice quiet and her dark eyes downcast.

“You know – I’m really happy you’re back. Under normal circumstances it would have been great to see you again. Coming back to a broken and flooded home only to find you doing everything you can to fix things, wasn’t what we were expecting.” Tom tried to joke but the attempt was half-hearted. Tom stared intently at once of the flickering candles on the coffee table.

Adrien gave a sad sheepish smile. “Like I said – I wish I could have done more.”

“But – Sabine, Marinette and I … we’ve braved through all kinds of weather. We’ll get through it. We’ll find a way.”

“If – if there’s anything I can help with – ” Adrien can but Tom interrupted him.

“There is. Marinette.”

“M-Marinette?” Adrien asked, suddenly a little scared. Unlike Sabine, Tom was a huge, burly man who could easily overpower him with little difficulty. Unintentionally hurting Mr. Dupain-Cheng’s daughter wouldn’t bode well for him.

“I want you to do something for me.”

“I – Anything, sir. Anything that I’m capable of.”

“I want you to make her smile again. Make her happy. She – this will be a very big blow for her. Marinette grew up with this bakery. It’s her home. And knowing my daughter she’s already over thinking things and finding reason to blame herself for all of this. I just need to know that during those times. You’ll be there for her when she gets in a bit of a … schlump. She can be very self-deprecating.”

“I – I’ll do everything I can, sir. Especially when it comes to Marinette.”

The singing sound of the kettle on the gas stove caused all three of them to look up. Sabine excused herself leaving the men to talk as she prepared tea for them.

“Since you started dancing with her, she’s gotten so much more confident. She’s happier. I just hope that this won’t stop you from dancing with her at parties or things, occasionally.”

Adrien’s eyes widened in confusion. “I don’t – Why would I stop dancing with her? She’s my dancer partner at the studio.”

“Marinette pays for lessons out of her own money. Knowing my daughter she’ll use all of her savings and earnings from her job to do the most selfless things, even if it means sacrificing her own happiness. I fear she might drop out of Latina á Paris, to help us pay for the damages. She’s become such a beautiful dancer. I’d hate for her to give up something she’s come to love. The audition, her happiness … all gone because of this.”

Adrien hadn’t thought of that. And he wanted to slap his head with his hand at his own stupidity. Of course Marinette would do something like that. She was so selfless, so worried to the point she over-thought things, resolving to drastic measures if it meant sacrificing her own needs and desires to make others safe and happy.

“N-no. I won’t let her quit.” Adrien said firmly.

“You might not get a choice in the matter when it comes to her.”

But Adrien shook his head roughly. “No. She auditioned. She got in. And she’s my dance partner and she’s amazing at dancing, no, incredible. And she’s happy. She’s so happy and so beautiful when she dances. I’m not going to take that away from her. I’m going to make sure she stays at the studio. The lessons, the room bookings, I’ll take care of that. Perhaps she could actually work for the studio to earn money. Either way it doesn’t matter. She’s staying at Latina á Paris. She’s my partner, I’m not letting her go.” 

Tom said nothing, looking at Adrien with curious eyes. It took several moments for Adrien to realise what he just said. And Adrien’s face blushed a very bright red as he looked away in embarrassment. He had practically confessed to Marinette’s father, how he felt about her.

But Adrien was surprised when a large heavy hand patted his back. “You’re a good man, Adrien. I’m glad Marinette’s found a friend in you. Promise me that you’ll take care of her for me; for Sabine. There’s only so much Sabine and I as parents can do.”

Adrien watched the candle light flicker warm yellow, his voice resolute. “I promise.”

Unknown to the three adults down stairs, Marinette and her kwami listened from the top of the attic stairs, hidden and silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much drama! So much sadness! <3


	23. A Ruined Bakery & The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

“Did you hear that Tiki?” Marinette asked quietly as she tucked herself into bed. It was very early in the morning, almost three.

“He’s going to help you pay for your classes. He wants you to keep dancing.”

“I – why would he offer something like that?”

“Adrien wants to help you, Marinette. Of course he does. He’s a good person as well as your dance partner.”

“No – that last part. That … He doesn’t want to let me go?”

“Oh Marinette …” Tiki said softly, hugging her chosen, her heart sore. Her chosen had gone through so much in a single night. How would her chosen heal from the shock?

“It’s words like those, Tiki – that make it even harder not to fall in love with him. It’s hard putting your advice into play.”

“Marinette – you’ve gone through so much tonight. No more talk of worrying about who you should be in love with. You need to sleep. You know you have class and work.”

“I’m giving my lecture a miss. And I don’t think work will need me tomorrow considering the café and so many other homes have probably been flooded out, too.”

Marinette pulled the sheets over her, Tiki flying down to settle onto Marinette’s pillow.

“I just wish Chat was here. He’d be able to fix things.” Marinette murmured.

Tiki didn’t say anything. She couldn’t because she didn’t know how. How could she say that she had sensed Chat’s presence near by? She hadn’t seen him thus she couldn’t back up her arguments. But he had been very near. She was certain of it.

“I’m sure Chat did as much as he could to help with the other civilians.” Tiki assured her, giving her chosen a gentle kiss on her cheek.

Marinette gave a yawn. “How do you know?”

“It’s a kwami thing. Just sleep, Marinette.”

And Marinette finally closed her eyes.

The next morning, Marinette was busy helping her parents clean out the bakery. It was a tiring job but Adrien’s efforts last night had helped her family in more ways than one. He had done so much and Marinette’s heart pained her knowing he had worked so hard to help them. He didn’t owe anything to her family. He had no ties to her, other than being her friend. He was too kind-hearted and selfless for his own good. He didn’t have to do things for her. Why was he helping her when had just gotten back on his own two feet? He could barely help himself. 

Still Marinette busied herself. As she worked, she watched other Parisian’s fix their broken homes. Police, fireman and rescue services were helping civilians clean the streets, move trees and broken cars. People were crying, people were furious. Everyone was sad as they waded through the muddy cold water.

“Marinette? Do you need help with that?” 

She looked up and saw Adrien. His green eyes were sad. He looked exhausted but he had yet to complain about it. Adrien had stayed the night, sleeping on the couch. Tom had given him some clean clothes to wear, whilst Sabine had washed his dirty rain-soaked ones in the sink. They were too big on him and hung loosely across his frame but Adrien had taken them, incredibly grateful. To her surprise, he wasn’t alone. Kim, Max, Nino and her best friend Alya were with him. All of them were sad, their eyes cloudy with concern. Adrien must have called them. Marinette’s eyes watered as she put down one the bags of rubbish she had hauled outside.

Alya gave her friend a tight hug. “Hey girl. You doing all right?” 

“Better now that all of you are here.” Marinette sniffed against her friend’s shoulder, a few tears falling from her eyes.

“We’re here to help.” Nino offered quietly.

Max and Kim gave a nod in approval. “Max and I will help your parents with the shop front. Alya and Nino will help you two.” Kim said as they sloshed through the water towards Marinette’s parents, who welcomed her friends with open arms.

“You – you didn’t have to do this.” Marinette said softly once Alya pulled away.

“We’re the best-test of friends. And I wasn’t gonna leave my girl to deal with this all on her own.” Alya gave a heartfelt smile.

The four of them busied themselves, trying to remove everything from the bakery before they could start focusing on draining the water. All four of them helped move the heavy freezer out from the back. Thankfully, it was the only main appliance that had been ruined, the large object, blocking most of the water from entering the back of the bakery. The ones that still worked were carefully unplugged and moved to higher ground. Marinette quickly informed her parents of the good news; that the main oven, their cold storage and many of their smaller baking appliances had survived, thanks to their freezer.

“Adrien …” Marinette said quietly as they cleaned up the broken glass on the main counter.

“What’s wrong?”

“I – I … you don’t have to help me pay for my dance classes. It’s fine, really.”

Adrien’s heart flipped and he blushed a bright pink. “Oh.” He said, rubbing a hand to the back of his neck, embarrassed as he tried to focus on the task at hand. “You heard that.”

“It’s incredibly generous of you, but unnecessary. And if it’s about the performance – I’m, I’m sure you can find someone else to dance with. I mean – with all of this, it’s gonna be difficult to organise practice times and – ”

Adrien interrupted her, his voice surprised. “It’s not about the performance. I don’t care about that.” 

“Then why?” She was genuinely confused now. “It’s not like I won’t stop dancing. I’ll just have to stop taking proper lessons. I can still learn at social dance nights.”

“I … I …” Adrien began awkwardly, evergreen eyes incredibly shy as he spoke. He was unable to look at her.

“Adrien?”

“I – I don’t want to dance with anyone else … unless … unless it’s with you.” Adrien said softly.

Marinette paused from her work, staring at him in wide eyes.

“What?”

“You – you’re so beautiful when you dance. Dancing with you, it feels – it’s amazing. You – you’re amazing when you dance. And I enjoy dancing with you. I guess that’s why I offered. If I’m going to ever perform with someone … I want to perform with you. I don’t want it to be with anyone else.” Adrien said shyly, voice low. Green eyes hesitantly met hers.

“I - ” Marinette’s cheeks burned at the confession, eyes wide with shock. Her heart refused to stop pounding in her chest. “You … you think I’m beautiful?” 

Adrien didn’t say anything. Still blushing, he leaned forward, pressing a very soft kiss to the side of Marinette’s forehead.

\-----

“Seriously! On the forehead! Adrien – you coward.” Alya growled from her hiding spot, peeking from behind the door. She had completely forgetting the soiled bakery ingredients she had to remove from the bakery’s kitchen.

“Tsk.”

Alya glared at her companion who was leaning casually against the wall. He too had taken a ‘short break’ from his work. 

“If you have an opinion, just say it.” Alya glared at him. 

“It’s been like how many years since I last saw you? Three and you’re still the same as ever. A scheming, conniving and annoying wench who can’t seem to keep her nose out of other’s people’s business.”

“And you’re still the uninterested, obnoxious and good for nothing *sshole with no future.” She said flatly.

“At least I let my friends sort things out for themselves.”

“At least I make an effort to check up on my friends, to make sure that they stay happy. You know, contact them, call up every once in a while just to see if they’re okay.”

Nino flipped her off. 

She rolled her eyes. 

“Let them deal with things on their own, Alya.” Nino said again, softer this time and more serious.

Alya sighed, and leaned back against the wall. 

“Fine – fine. But Marinette’s had too many, heartbreaks in one night. I’m just worried about her. It’s gonna take a really long time for her family to get back on their feet. An infatuation with a school crush she’s had since she was fifteen isn’t gonna help.”

“Hey – I know Adrien. He’s a good guy. He’s not gonna break her heart.”

Alya raised an eyebrow. “Says the one that was there during the night Adrien drunkenly started singing he was in love with this mystery girl, who definitely was NOT Marinette.”

“Hey – he had a few to drink. We all did. And that’s in the past. Adrien’s changed since I last remembered him. Matured since his time in America. He’s not that naïve kid anymore. And he certainly isn’t still in love with this other person, or at the very least if he still is, his feelings aren’t as strong. That I’m sure.”

“When did you get so perceptive?”

“Since the moment I had glasses, dork.”

“You’re still such a tit.” 

“And you a wench.”

She stuck his tongue out at him. 

“But really, if he does anything to hurt her, I won’t be afraid to commit Adrien-cide.” She warned him.

“I’ll be sure to not bail you out of a prison.”

“Don’t’ worry – I don’t ever expect you to.”

Neither of them spoke for several minutes. Alya rubbed her temples, a sudden headache coming on. She hadn’t seen Nino in three years. And nothing had changed. The two of them were still arguing like petty kids. And as much as she hated to admit it, the snarky banter was beginning to wear her patience thin.

“It’s always been like this.” He said quietly.

“What?” Alya asked, head resting against the wall. 

“Us – fighting. Maybe we got on better when we were in middle school. I mean all of us were friends. Then that changed when I left Paris.”

She scoffed at the memory. Things had been better in school. But they were fifteen, young, stupid, with the entire world at their feet.

“You were expecting things to stay the same?”

“I was hoping that we’d still be friends. Or at very least, be civil to each other.” Nino snapped a little too harshly.

“You should have thought of that when you made the decision to break up with me.” She growled, unable to look at him.

“A-Alya – ” Nino began but Alya cut him off. 

“No! I don’t wanna hear it. You deciding that it would be better that us being in a relationship was never going to work out, without even asking for my opinion, without asking how I felt when you said that you were moving overseas to work. Did you really think I wouldn’t have understood? That I wasn’t willing to make our relationship work even if it was long distance.”

“Alya – you … you were starting university. You wanted to get a degree. You – you had your whole life ahead of you. Even in school you were already way out of my league. How could I compete with someone like you?” Nino said sadly.

“It wasn’t about you thinking that you weren’t good enough for me. It was your decision to not tell me how you felt – for just breaking it off without talking to me first! And before I realised what you truly meant, you’d already left! Like that!” Alya whispered, unable to fight back the angry frustrated tears that fell from her eyes, fogging her glasses. She tried blinking them away. She hated crying.

“You – you deserve so much better than me. You deserve someone who can actually give you the life you truly want.”

The small back room in the kitchen echoed with a loud slap. Nino cradled his stinging cheek, brown eyes wide in complete shock as he stared at the girl he had to give up. She was furious, her beautiful face creased into a snarl as hot tears fell from her eyes. 

“Maybe I don’t deserve you. Maybe I do. Either way it doesn’t matter. That was something for me to decide. Not you. You had no right to just to leave, nor did you have the right to waltz back into my life like this.”

“How was I to know you’d be there?!” Nino exclaimed. In truth, seeing her outside Adrien’s dance studio had been a horrible shock. Memories of that painful miserable day he had told her he was leaving, that it was best that they remain friends, that a long distance relationship wasn’t going to work … lying to her, telling her that he didn’t love her anymore … he had almost wanted to take his suitcase and leave. How could he face her? But Alya being Alya had merely shrugged, giving a casual disinterested hello. But he had seen the pain, the betrayal and the horror flash in her beautiful hazel eyes.

“You didn’t contact me. You changed your number. You didn’t tell me where you were, or if you were okay. It was like you never existed.” She said angrily, hands clenched at her sides.

“It was best that you didn’t know where I was. I – I didn’t want to hurt you anymore than I had to.” 

“Well you succeeded.”

“Alya – you need to be with someone who thinks like you, who can give you everything that you want. I – I was never that man. No matter what I do, I can never be that man. I’m a DJ for crying out loud who barely passed his exams in school. I have no degree, no stable life. And you … you’re this amazing woman whose gonna do so much, whose gonna become so much more. I can’t be the one that helps you. And I wasn’t gonna be the one that held you back from achieving your dreams!” Nino finally confessed, running his hands through his short-cropped hair, in frustration. It had taken a moment to realise hot tears had dotted his eyes too.

Alya said nothing for a moment. “I – I never ever thought that you weren’t right for me. Do you honestly think I care if you don’t have a degree? That you don’t have the life I would want in someone I want to be with?”

“Alya – you … you’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever known, that I’ve ever fallen in love with. But there’s so much about you I know I could never compete with.”

“Nino, why didn’t you just tell me this? Why didn’t you tell me you felt that way?” she murmured.

“I – It seemed easier to just break everything off.”

Alya nodded. She understood. “I think it would have been simpler if you just told me the truth. But you didn’t … you told me you hated me. That you – you didn’t love me anymore. I’ve had to live with that for three years.”

“I know. And I’m so sorry.”

“No. You’re not sorry. If you were sorry you’d have visited me the moment you got back to Paris. You would have called me. You would have given me closure. But no. You didn’t. You’re right. Adrien isn’t the coward … you are.” She whispered, hazel eyes brimming with disappointment.

“That’s why you deserve so much. I understand if you hate me, Alya.” He said sadly, hanging his head, utterly defeated. Alya truly deserved someone else. He loved her so much. He still loved her. But he just couldn’t be with her.

“I hate the fact that no matter how many dates I’ve had, no matter how many guys and girls I’ve made out with, no matter how many drunken one night stands I’ve had to help me forget – ” 

Nino flinched at the last part, the very thought of someone else holding the girl he loved, touching and caressing the body he would spend hours making love to every night, kissing the lips he had claimed as his own, made his heart break.

“No matter what I do to make me forget, I hate the fact that I’m still hopelessly in love with you!” Alya finally concluded, looking at the flooded tiled floor.

Nino looked up in surprise, brown eyes widening in disbelief. “A-Alya? Did you – mmmmph!”

Nino could never finish his sentence. Instead, Nino could only stare wide eyed at the girl that had captured his lips in a fierce desperate kiss. And he felt that had taken three long lonely years to build, in order to protect and harden his heart suddenly crumble in a single second. She fit perfectly against him, his arms on instinct immediately wrapped around her slender waist, hands resting against the soft curves of a body he had missed cradling. She felt so warm, so perfect, just like he remembered. As his own eyes fluttered closed, he could taste the saltiness of tears on her lips against his tongue. He felt her mouth open, granting him permission and he remembered every inch of her mouth, her lips, her tongue dancing against his own. Noses rubbed against each other, soft sounds of their pants and desperation echoing the room. Nino had to push her away; he had to. This was too fast. They were still arguing. But what he wanted wasn’t the same as what he needed. And he needed Alya. He needed Alya in his life. Three horrible miserable years without her had been a torment. He needed Alya to be with him. She wasn’t a drug. He wasn’t addicted to her. She was so much more. Alya was his heart. The moment he left Paris, he had felt empty, as if he truly had left his heart behind him. She was his everything. 

This wasn’t the closure the rational side of his brain needed. But any coherent warning demanding him to stop had suddenly vanished, his functioning head now hazy with longing for the woman he had never stopped loving. When arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers cradling his head, urging him closer, he couldn’t resist. He was stuck. He was so in love with the intelligent, feisty, brave and determined woman that had woven her way into his uninterested and awkward heart, since they were fifteen. Pulling her closer to him, he couldn’t let her go. He had made the stupid decision to do so three years ago. And now she was here, whirling back into his life again, as unpredictable and as terrifying as the storm last night. And he couldn’t let het her go a second time. Not now. Not ever.

When the need to breathe again became too much for them, Alya regretfully pulled away, her cheeks a beautiful reddish hue, which looked delightful on her olive skin. Her hazel eyes were embarrassed. She still tried to look furious but she was failing miserably. Nino couldn’t help think she looked absolutely adorable.

“I – I still have feelings for you. I can’t help that. But if you – if you want to end this. Just tell me now. And I’ll let you go.” She murmured against his lips.

Nino smiled, resting his forehead against her, his glasses lightly clacking against hers. Gently rubbing his nose against hers, he found himself smiling happily, for the first in a very long time.

“Never, wench.”

“You’re still such a d*ck.” She groaned though returned the light nuzzle to her nose.

“One I know you like riding, in the back of the school bus.”

Alya’s face blushed an even brighter red, eyes mortified. “Of all the – You had to bring that up!”

“Hey, it wasn’t like I was complaining that afternoon.” He grinned before kissing her again. His wench gave a grumble but she eagerly returned the kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Some DJWifi action! I love these two, together :3


	24. A Heart To Heart 'Chat'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

All of them were eating lunch in Marinette’s apartment, crowded in her small bedroom, nibbling on sandwiches Sabine had made for them. Adrien, Marinette, Kim and Max couldn’t help notice the change in dynamic between Nino and Alya, who were sitting much closer than usual. That and the fact Nino’s lips looked a little more bruised than usual made all of them a little curious. News of their breakup three years ago hadn’t been secret; it had all happened quite publically, the scene ugly and sad. But the four of them had the decency not to pry, let alone the courage to ask either of them what had changed between them.

“Thanks guys for helping me and my family today. I don’t know what we would have done without all of you. We actually managed to salvage more than we expected. Most of our bakery equipment is still in working condition.”

“Glad we could help, Marinette.” Max said, taking another bite of his ham sandwich.

“Yeah. Anything for a good friend. But really – that storm last night, the flood. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Kim mused out loud. “You know the Seine broke its banks. So many people in the area had to evacuate.”

“I guess my family and I got lucky then. At least we still have a roof over our head.” Marinette said sadly, her heart going out for all of the people without a home.

“Seriously, the storm came out of no where. It was predicted it would rain, a light shower. But that thing – it was like a hurricane had just landed right on top of Paris. And apparently ONLY Paris had it. No where else.” Nino said.

“The chances of that happen are incredibly miniscule. Highly unorthodox.” Max added pushing his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose.

“I just hope it doesn’t rain again.” Adrien said. “I mean it’s still cloudy outside. I don’t think Paris could deal with another flood.”

“I wonder … perhaps this entire thing was actually caused by an akumatised civilian.” Alya wondered out loud.

Marinette and Adrien both flinched. 

“A-Akumatised. No. I-I’m sure it’s just a storm. Besides, akumatised victims don’t have the power to control the weather to that degree.” Marinette began nervously.

“There was Stormy Weather.” Kim offered.

“But she only caused a storm to fall over the city, and even then, it was only part of it. Akumatized civilians can only be granted so much power to cause destruction.” Adrien said.

“More to the point, this storm started off like any other. It only got really bad later in the evening. Most akumas tend to make a statement, attack the city immediately. Why would someone wait for so long ... if this storm really was made by an akuma?” Marinette added.

“Anyway – I’m sure Ladybug and Chat Noir would have realised if this storm was the outcome of an akuma or not.” Max interjected.

Alya merely shrugged, taking another bite of her sandwich.

Adrien and Marinette on the other hand were quiet as their friends spoke amongst themselves, both of them worried as the possibilities and questions ran through their heads. What if last night’s storm and flood really had been a caused by an akuma? If so, why hadn’t they noticed it sooner? 

\-----

It was late in the evening when Chat Noir raced across the rooftops, trying to keep warm as the cold wind howled around him. The stormy clouds still hung low in the sky, but thankfully it hadn’t started to rain yet. Streets were still clogged with muddy floodwater yet most of the civilians had cleaned up the streets. The water level had also receded somewhat, coming up just above people’s ankles. Uprooted trees and flipped over cars had been removed but Paris still had a long way to go. 

Pausing on top of a chimneystack, he crouched, green eyes narrowing as he gazed across the city, for any signs of trouble. But he sensed nothing. Perhaps his early concerns were just that, perhaps he was overthinking. He could stop his patrol for tonight.

It didn’t take him long to reach the rooftop of Marinette’s bedroom. From the small circular window, he could see her in her pyjamas, sitting down sadly on her chaise lounge, struggling to draw. There were a few inky sketches on the white pages, blotted by tears. And his heart filled with sadness.

He gently tapped on the windowpane, giving a slight smile when Marinette looked up at him. She gave a sad smile in return getting up to let him in through the hatch above her bed. She waited quietly on her pink bed sheets as he climbed down.

“Hey, Princess. Are you okay?” 

Marinette nodded softly. She looked so worn, mentally, emotionally and physically exhausted.

“C-Chat. I didn’t expect to you tonight. I thought you’d be helping other civilians.”

Chat shrugged. “I was – closer to the Seine. A lot of people got hit pretty badly there. But all I wanted was to make sure you were okay. I guess I came too late.” He finished sadly.

Marinette gave her superhero companion a watery smile. “Thanks for worrying about me, chatton. But my friends helped me today. They did so much.”

“I’m glad, Princess.”

“Is – is it okay if we talk about something else?” she asked him quietly. “I just – after today and last night …” 

Chat gave Marinette a gentle smile before urging her to lie down as he tucked her into bed. She sighed as he lay down next to her, taking her into his arms. “Of course. I understand. Is there anything you want to talk about specifically?”

“Actually – yes. There is, since you’re here. I’ve been meaning to ask – ” she began hesitantly from against the pillow.

“What is it Marinette?”

“Remember the, um – the last time you were on my balcony. You told me to … to go after the guy I still had a crush on, my dance partner.”

Adrien’s heart stopped, his chest tightening. He remembered that evening. He also remembered the stupid thoughtless words he had said to her.

“Marinette …”

“You said that, if … well – you said you’d wait for me, if my crush didn’t reciprocate his feelings. Did – did you really meant it?” 

Adrien was stuck. He honestly hadn’t meant to say those things on the balcony that day. But Marinette was looking at him, blue eyes shining earnestly as she waited for an answer. He couldn’t be anything but honest to her.

“Y-yes, Princess. I was willing to wait for you. I still am.”

Marinette’s eyes were suddenly pained, full of guilt and sadness. “I – I’m sorry, Chat. But … there’s no use in waiting. I – I still love him. And, these past few days he’s … he’s been different. He’s – ”

“He’s been paying more attention to you. He’s been saying certain things. It’s as if he’s suddenly realised what was there this whole time.” Chat offered gently.

“How – how could you know that?” 

Chat gave a smile, lightly stroking Marinette’s hair, brushing the silken raven locks that fell across her cheek. If only she knew. One day he would tell her. But now was not that time.

“Because it also took me a long time to realise that there was this amazing girl, right in front of me, this whole entire time and I didn’t even see it.”

“Ch-chat! I – I’m so sorry.” Marinette whispered, tears brimming her eyes. 

Chat’s heart ached. His princess was feeling so much guilt when she had no need to. She had no idea that she was already in love with him as his civilian self. Her remorse for rejecting this side of him didn’t matter. Adrien made a promise to himself and to her that he would do things the right way. He would tell her soon, just not yet, not after what had happened. 

“Shhhh. It’s okay. It’s my own fault for seeing it too late. For seeing ‘you’ too late. The man you’re in love with is an incredibly lucky man. I already know he’s never going to let you go.”

“B-but – are you okay with this? You’ll be all alone.” She pleaded with him, blue eyes dull with misery and full of remorse.

“It’s alright, Marinette. It’s alright. Go after this boy, Marinette. Don’t hold back. Love him with all of your heart. I promise he will love you in return.”

Marinette didn’t quite know what to think. Chat Noir seemed happy, truly happy for her. He genuinely wanted her to be with Adrien. He didn’t attempt to win back her affection. Nor did he desperately promise that he’d still wait for her as she loved another. It was almost as if Chat’s confession had vanished into thin air. Although it hadn’t. Chat’s love for her was still there. In fact, it had grown even stronger. He still loved her very much. And he was letting her go. And Marinette had never felt as guilty as she did now. 

“Princess – don’t feel bad about this. I promise, everything is going to be alright.” He assured her, gently bopping her on her freckled nose.

“You’ll – you’ll be all alone.” 

“Not as alone as you might think.” Chat smiled, his vivid green eyes glinting mysteriously in the light.

“I – don’t …”

Chat placed a gloved finger to her lips, careful of his claws as he hushed her.

“Enough talk tonight. You’ve had a very long day, Princess. It’s time that you got some sleep.”

With that Marientte actually gave a yawn. Chat couldn’t help chuckle. God, she was just so cute sometimes, with her big blue eyes and her sprinkle of freckles. How had he not noticed her? Right it was his infatuation with Ladybug, which seemed so long ago now. He still loved Ladybug, but Marinette was here, Marinette was perfectly imperfect. She seemed so real. She was real. And Adrien knew Plagg had been right. Marinette really was his true love.

“Close your eyes, Mari.”

Marinette looked at him with sleepy hazed eyes as she snuggled into the pillow.

“M-Mari?” she yawned.

Cr*p! He hadn’t called her that as Chat Noir yet. “Oh … sorry. It just sounded like a nice nickname.”

“N-no! I like it. I’ve only ever heard – A-Adrien call me that.” Her words faltered as she nodded off to sleep.

Chat gave a slight smile, as he watched his sleeping princess. “And I intend to keep calling you that, Mari.”

\-----

Marinette slowly walked into Latina á Paris, once of the few buildings outside the city that hadn’t been ruined by the devastation outside. She wondered if the decision for the studio to be on higher ground had anything to do with it.

Adrien was waiting for her in reception as he had promised.

“You wanted to see me?”

“Not me, specifically. Anna actually. She’s not here, unfortunately but wanted me to tell you something on her behalf.”

“Okay – I’m listening.” Marinette said, putting her practice clothes down.

“The studio is looking for a new marketing and graphic designer to promote the company. They need someone to work alongside Alya. Alya has the advertising and marketing knowledge as well as some IT skills but she lacks the creative skills and the design knowledge. I mentioned to Anna since you’ve designed graphics for a few things, she was wondering if you would be interested in the position, before she sends off job enquiries.”

Marinette eyes widened. Had she heard right?

“Latina á Paris is offering me a job?”

Adrien gave a slight smile as he nodded.

“Adrien – if, if this is about helping me with paying for my classes I –“

Adrien shook his head, holding up his hands in defence. 

“Honestly this wasn’t my idea. I’m just surprised as you are by the offer. Of course, knowing you have so much creative talent I didn’t think twice about putting your name forward, and showing Anna some of the graphic stuff you’ve designed. Like the cover you made for Jagged Stone – Anna was really impressed by it. But that’s all I did. I swear. I’m still offering to help you with your classes. But this wasn’t my idea. The opportunity came out of nowhere.”

“The job – it’s, it’s not like a favour towards me is it, ‘cus I dance here?”

“Knowing Anna, she’d prefer to have people that work for the studio actually take lessons here. Keep it within the brand I guess. I understand her logic and reasoning behind it. She’s not unwilling to sourcing people from outside the studio, but it’s easier to have people that are part of the Latina á Paris family work together. I think that’s why Anna is really keen on you working for the studio. Same with Alya. Since she’s the daughter of a very regular member, it works out for the studio’s favour. From what I gathered it’s a good job, part time since you’re studying. The benefits from working for the studio include dance classes. You wouldn’t have to pay for them anymore. You also get great deals on costumes as well as workshops or tickets to social nights and other balls. Travel to performance venues is also covered by this job. You’d have to quit your café job I’m afraid, since you’d be committing to the studio. But the job pays really well, better than waitressing. Anna doesn’t want to hire anyone else. It’s just the one position; it would just be you and Alya in the office, here. Are you interested?”

“Wh-what kind of jobs would I be doing?”

“Graphic design applications mainly. So designing brochures, posters, event graphics, stuff for websites, Alya’s gonna help you with that. You’ll also help with basic admin stuff of course. You’d also help with promoting the dance studio, getting the word out there, organising and managing events and other similar activities. It’s a full on position. And since Anna knows you study fashion design, you’ve also been asked to have costume design input on the performances that are done here.”

Marinette’s blue, eyes widened in astonishment. “Wait – like design the costumes?”

Adrien nodded, smiling. “Yup. I mean, Stüdaria supplies most of the costumes, but there have been times that certain performances require custom-made stuff. Since Latina á Paris has no representative to deal with the custom requirements, any difficulties with size changes, costume numbers for example, Anna’s had to deal with it. It’s not the most efficient method. They need someone with a design or more specifically a fashion design background. What do you think, Marinette?”

Marinette didn’t know what to say. She was in shock. This job – this job, it was absolutely perfect for her. She couldn’t have asked for anything more. She would be able to keep designing. She’d get paid an even better salary thus she would be able to help her parents with their financial difficulties. This job wouldn’t get in the way of her studies. In fact, it would actually benefit her university coursework, and it would allow her to build up her fashion portfolio if she had to design custom-made costumes. She’d also be working alongside with Alya, the two of them an unstoppable team. And most of all, she would be able to keep dancing without feeling guilty for having to rely on Adrien to help with her lessons. She’d still be able to attend them without anyone’s assistance. She’d be doing things all on her own.

“I – I’d love to work for the studio. Thank you, Adrien. Is there any way I can tell Anna I’m definitely interested?” she exclaimed, heart fluttering in excitement.

“I’ve got her number, I can text her to say that you’re keen on taking the job. You’ll have to meet up with her some time to organise the proper documents.”

Marinette nodded, still not quite believing just how lucky she was.

“So – you up for another practice today. I mean, with everything going on, I get it if you want to postpone today’s practice.”

“No – no! I’ve brought my stuff. And my parents told me after the last couple of days … I need to … unwind.”

“I understand.”

“I’m still worried about them.”

Adrien place a warm reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Of course you do. Who wouldn’t be? I’m worried about them. I’m worried about you too. If there’s anything I can do or anything you need to tell me, you know I always here for you.”

Marientte gave a shy smile, cheeks tinting pink. “Thanks, Adrien.”

“Come on – I think Alya’s waiting in the studio for us. She wants to film some stuff for the blog. If that’s okay.”

Marinette pursed her lips. Filming? So soon? “Did she say what she wanted to film, specifically?”

Adrien shook his head. “Knowing Alya, I didn’t dare ask.”

Marinette gave a long sigh, picking up her dance gear. “Alright – let’s go.” 

And both of them headed towards their practice studio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of a filler chapter - but just as important with the plot. Starting to write a new chapter so don't worry.


	25. The Next Step - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

Alya was waiting for them, a camcorder in her hand. Some recording equipment lay quietly at her side.

She gave a smile, jumping up to hug Marinette. “Hey girl. How are you? How are your parents doing?”

“We’re all doing okay. We’ve cleared out most of the rubble. There are people at my place pumping out the rest of the water. Once that’s done, we can start remodelling and actually get started on putting the bakery back together.” Marinette said.

“Just let me know when you need my help. Or my family’s.”

“Thanks, Alya. But you, Adrien and the others have already done so much for me. I couldn’t ask you for anything more.”

Her friend folded her arms, still carefully holding the small camera. “That wasn’t an offer.”

“Okay – fine. I’ll let you know if I need some assistance taking out the trash.”

“So, Alya – what did you need to film for the vlog?” Adrien asked, sitting down as he put on his dance shoes. Marinette sat next to him, casually pulling her long sleeved shirt over her head, wondering if she could somehow persuade Alya to accept fancy footwork and shines. She wasn’t sure she was up to body rolling yet.

“Damn, Mari – strip why don’t you.” Alya giggled. “You have an audience, remember.”

Marinette glared at her best friend when she finally pulled the shirt off of her body. She had put on a black crop top, over her bra; comfortable and very easy to move in, wearing them with matching yoga pants.

It was then she realised Adrien was also staring at her, a little too intently, with his bright green eyes, a slight blush dusting his beautiful face. Adrien couldn’t help it. He hadn’t meant to look at her. He had only glanced sideways to check the clock on the wall. Instead, his eyes were drawn to the very seductive girl before him. In the soft yellow light of the room, Marinette looked utterly delightful in her somewhat revealing attire with the teasing swell and curve of her of her breasts accentuated by that tiny top (something that should be made illegal for someone like her to wear in public), the beautiful arch of her back as she pulled off her shirt suggestively, her gorgeous slender waist was ever so tantalising, and the way her black yoga pants hugged her thighs leaving very little to the imagination. 

Suddenly self-conscious, Marinette wrapped her arms around herself. And Adrien blushed bright pink, looking away and completely mortified.

“Thanks, Alya.” She muttered.

Adrien cleared his throat awkwardly, focusing on the laces of his dance shoes.

“You two are adorable.” Alya said.

“Alya ...” Marinette warned, giving her friend a scowl. Her friend put her hands up in defence.

“Fine, fine. I’ll back off. But yeah – Anna as well as Julio, Anita and Bernárd, the dance instructors, need some footage of couples practicing on their blog. I’ve been scheduled to record other dancers, but they specifically require clips of the studios different teams. You two were the first on the list I was given.” Alya gestured to a clipboard with notes, which rested on top of her bag. 

“You don’t need to video of our Ball performance – we haven’t done much and we’ve only had one proper practice.” Marinette said, slightly concerned. 

Alya shook her head. “Not if you don’t want to. Perhaps I can film the two of you coming up with potential choreography, or working on different moves. Anything to show the two of you practising. Think of it as a showcase of the different teams. Julio also wants the two of you to ‘voice-over’ the video, explaining why you love Bachata so much, and why you love dancing together as a couple.”

Marinette stared at her friend, wide-eyed. Adrien looked curious.

“Coming up with something to say is gonna be interesting.” Adrien murmured.

“But you can worry about that later. I’m just gonna film you dance. So act natural – pretend I’m not even here. Oh … and give me the good stuff. I need body rolls and grinding.” Alya smirked as she readied her camera.

Marinette wanted to sink into the floor. She was absolutely mortified. Honestly, her friend had the incredible talent of making every embarrassing situation she found herself in, worse.

“I think we can do that. Shouldn’t be too hard to do? You okay with that, Mari?” Adrien asked her as he shrugged out of his jacket, leaving him in his slacks and a t-shirt.

“I – uh, yeah. I’m game.”

“Mind if we stretch first, Alya?”

“No problem, need to set up the equipment anyway so let me know when you’re done.”

Marinette went to the bar on the far side of the studio. Adrien joined her as they started doing basic stretches and body rotations to loosen and warm their limbs. Closing her eyes she concentrated, stretching different parts of her body taught with every position she held. The past two days had been painful, frustrating and difficult. And she was grateful dancing would help her momentarily forget everything that was happening. It wasn’t as if a sanity check was needed. But her heart could only take so much sadness. Dancing at least helped alleviate some of that. The concentration needed for every step and immersing her completely into the steady music, helped her to forget all the bad things that were happening around her; it helped her detach from reality itself.

“Need some help?” Adrien asked, stretching back up after touching his palms to the floor for the eighth time. He quickly shook out his arms and legs, before rotating his ankles slowly.

“Um – sure. Uh, I was just gonna stretch my legs to the side again, raise my leg up.” Marinette said.

“Hey – how about we see if we can turn that into a dance position. You hold onto me for balance and I stretch your leg up.” 

“I – I’ve never tried that before with a partner. How would it work?” Marinette asked, eyebrows creasing in confusion. She was a little apprehensive. She had never done anything like this before.

“Kay, put your arms on me, and rely on my weight to hold you up, okay.”

Marinette blushed a little as she wrapped her arms around Adrien’s neck. “Okay – now what?”

Using his right hand, Adrien gently urged her to move her leg around his hip, slowly tracing down her calf.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you okay. Or if you feel any muscle strain. I’ll stop immediately.”

Bright blue eyes widened in surprise when Adrien slowly began to lift her entire leg upwards, feeling the tension of her muscles pull. Marinette straightened her leg as best she could when Adrien rested her ankle on top of his shoulder. She held him tight as he moved back slightly. Guided by instinct, she trusted him, letting herself fall with him as she dipped slightly into a perfect split against his body. Gravity pushed her left leg and her torso against his chest, whilst her right leg extended outwards, the tendons in her limbs pulled taught. Marinette’s leg muscles stretched with the effort and she used her core strength to maintain her frame, sweat beading on the sides of her forehead.

“Jeeze, Mari … are you even human?” Alya said. 

Both of them turned to find a camera pointed at them, the red flashing button indicated she had captured the entire thing. Alya was looking at them in complete disbelief.

“Wanna do the other leg, Marinette?” Adrien chuckled, grinning at Alya’s dumbfounded expression. Marinette gave a giggle, easily slipping her left leg down from Adrien’s shoulder.

“Sure thing. Just let me stretch the right leg a bit more.” Marinette said with a soft laugh as she brought her right foot past her head and stretching the leg muscles, hands weaving around her calf to pull the limb close to her body.

\-----

For the next two hours, Adrien and Marinette practiced together. Going along Alya’s suggestion Adrien and Marinette worked more on their choreography listening to their song choice several times to see what moves would suit best the verses. They showed each other shines and complex footwork they knew, combining their ideas into new moves. They experimented with different positions, open-hold, close holds, lifts, dips and splits, Adrien seeing if his partner could move into each one without any discomfort. And Marinette did each and every one of them with grace and confidence. All the while, Alya kept filming them, occasionally interjecting an inappropriate comment whenever Adrien and Marinette found themselves in a more intimate pose. 

“Don’t mind me – I’m just filming some really sexy Latin porn.” Alya smirked behind the screen.

Marinette groaned, a bright red blush tinting her cheeks. Once again, her best friend had ruined the sensual beautiful mood between the two of them. Instead she was both mortified and incredibly embarrassed. Adrien was currently holding her tight to him, crouching slightly as he supported her weight with his arms and lower body. They were incredibly close, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, one of her hands, gently stroking the back of his neck. His arms were locked around her waist, one hand pressing gently in between her shoulder blades. Their foreheads were touching, noses barely brushing against each other. Their legs were interlocked, his thigh in between her own, their lower hips rocking together into a very slow and seductive body roll.

“Seriously, Alya! We are trying to concentrate here. It’s getting hard, pretending that’s you’re not watching us.” 

“Pfft – I’m surprised things haven’t gotten hard, considering how much grinding you two are doing.”

“Alya! If you want to film us, keep your opinions to yourself.” Marinette said through clenched teeth, as she gave her friend a hard glare. 

Adrien on the other hand merely laughed softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. But Alya’s last comment had made his own cheeks redden in embarrassment. As inappropriate as Alya’s comment was, there was some truth in it. Falling deeper in love with the beautiful and amazing girl he held so intimately in his arms, practically encouraging her own hips to rock against his own was a very dangerous gamble. He was playing with fate and the nature of the human body. His lower half could only withstand so much heated friction from every provocative pose. Not to mention the sensual and hazy stare of Marinette’s lapis lazuli eyes whenever she danced sent his heart racing in his chest, quickening his pulse. He had to maintain a level of professionalism. Marinette was his dance partner and explaining the sudden and very awkward, hardened bulge in the front of his pants was not something he wanted happening any time soon.

Marinette’s cheeks burned once more. Although the man had been kissing her affectionately since the flood, she had yet to fully get used to it. Him kissing her had been something she had dreamed about since she was still a school student.

“Well Alya does have a point about us dancing on hardwood … considering the floors we tend to use.” Adrien mused, hoping to lighten the mood. From their position, he easily brought Marinette into a dip, watching her fingertips gracing the floor.

“Adrien – don’t encourage her.” Marinette sighed but then gave a yelp in surprise when she felt Adrien hoist her left leg up over his shoulder once more. 

Her dance partner guided her into another split, but only this time, she was practically hanging upside down, rather than pressed against the floor or his body. She had no gravity to help her hold her legs straight and poised. It all had to come from her, the tendons in her muscles tightening with the effort as her entire body weight was put on her right leg. Adrien held her weight carefully, ensuring that she was balanced and could hold the pose.

“You okay?” He asked, concern in his voice. “This doesn’t hurt, does it?”

“Nuh, uh, though I can only stand like this with my head upside down for so long …”

“Um … ow!” Alya said. “Really, ow!”

“She’s certainly, Miss Flexible.” Adrien chuckled.

“I aim to please.” Marinette said.

“Though it makes me wonder what kind of positions you two would be able hold in the sheets if this is the kind of stuff you do on the dance floor.”

Even from her upside down position, Marinette scowled at her best friend, glaring right into the camera. “I am gonna kill you after this.”

\-----

Marinette and Adrien were sitting in the café close to their studio. Marinette sipped the white hot chocolate he had bought her. He sat down next to her.

“So – that wasn’t too bad. I guess.” He chuckled slicing the muffin he bought in half.

“Alya is so … so …” Marinette struggled to find the best word to describe her friend.

“Alya.” Adrien offered.

“Pretty much. I’m sorry about all the … lewd comments.”

“It’s fine. Kim, Max and Nino have always teased me about it too. Bachata and inappropriate comments just come hand in hand.”

“And the fact we dance on hardwood.” Marinette giggled.

Adrien gave a tight grin, “Especially since we dance on hardwood.”

The two of them sat in comfortable silence. Adrien offered her part of the blueberry muffin and she took it gratefully, her fingers brushing against his.

“Um – thanks, by the way.” She said quietly.

“For the muffin? Or for making Alya’s comments more bearable?”

Marinette shook her head. “Well there’s that too. But that’s not what I wanted to thank you for.”

“Marinette, if this is about the bakery, then I’m glad I could have helped. I wish I could have done more, to be perfectly honest.” Adrien said gently.

“Not that. I mean, the past couple of days. I never got to thank you properly for everything that you did that night. So again, thank you.”

“Everything? What exactly are you thanking me for?” Adrien said softly, looking at the girl beside him. She wasn’t looking at him, her dark fringe hiding her eyes; she was also blushing.

“I – you were there when the bakery was flooding. You – you didn’t leave me. When everything around me was falling to pieces, when I felt I couldn’t do anything, when I was feeling so useless and so stupid, you didn’t leave me. You took care of me, got me warm in the shower and stayed with me, helped me get dressed even. You even stayed to fix whatever you could when my parents came back home. You could have stayed upstairs with me; it would have been safer. But you went out, back into the rain to save whatever we had left. And the next day, you came back to help. You even offered to help pay for my classes when you found out that money was gonna be tight for our family. You – you’ve been so generous, so kind. I don’t know how I could ever repay you for that kindness. All I can do is say thank you.” Marinette said shyly.

Adrien stared at her, evergreen eyes wide as he recoiled slightly in surprise. Marinette sounded so earnest. And his heart melted in his chest. Sometimes there were nights he wondered how had he never noticed this amazing woman? No. It was every night and practically every waking morning he questioned his own stupidity; his own foolish blindness. Was it even possible to fall in love so quickly in just over a week, and fall deeper in love with every passing minute? Adrien had never known anything like it. With Ladybug, his love had been different, bordering along the horizon of idolisation and awe. He spent years trying to win her affection only to leave France knowing his love would forever be unrequited. But with Marinette, she didn’t even need to try. She was no superhero. She was his friend. All she needed to do was simply be her kind-hearted and beautiful self for Adrien’s heart to ache for her.

Adrien placed his food and drink down on the table and he took her hands into his, suddenly nervous. He couldn’t hide his feelings anymore. He just couldn't. He had to tell her. He promised that he would be honest to her, that he would tell her everything. And Adrien had never been more terrified in that moment. He couldn’t even look at her, staring at the untouched food on the table.

“I – you don’t have to thank me for that.”

“Of course I do! Adrien – you deserve everything; every thanks and gratitude from me and from my family!” She exclaimed.

“Mari, helping your family, helping you, hadn’t even be an option for me. It’s something I had to do.” 

“I don’t u-understand.”

“Making sure you were alright wasn’t about it being the right thing to do at the time.”

“Then – then why be so kind to us? To … to me?”

“Marinette … I would do anything to make sure you were okay, to keep you safe.”

“A-Adrien?” she stammered, turning her head to face him. She was only met by a warm gentle hand, which tilted her chin upwards. Marinette’s bright blue eyes widened with complete surprise when Adrien’s lips tenderly kissed her own. 

And she was even more surprised when she found herself, kissing him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! We seem some Adrienette action! And it's been how many chapters since I first started writing this?!


	26. The Next Step - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

Adrien’s lips were warm, soft against her own as he kissed her gently. Marinette had always dreamed of the day she kissed Adrien. She had pictured it somewhere really romantic, overlooking the Seine as the boats travelled along the river, or from the Eiffel tower at night, Paris a beautiful constellation of city lights beneath them. Her heart would stop in her chest, and her emotions would mirror an explosion of fireworks. Her senses would go haywire in celebration and exaltation from the brush of Adrien’s lips against her own, and that she would be consumed by a whirlwind of romance from the burning passion of it all.

This wasn’t anything like her wildest fantasies. The kiss was soft, a gentle caress against her lips as he moved against her, as a warm hand gently brushed her cheek. The kiss was also sweet like the muffin he had bought for them. It was hesitant; shy but full of need expressing the heated longing and the yearning she felt in her aching heart, as he deepened the kiss. The kiss was nothing like her dreams. It was so simple. It was better. It was more. It was everything.

When their lips parted, Adrien didn’t pull away, his forehead resting against hers, noses touching. She could feel the warmth of his breath tease her lips, still tingling from the kiss. When shy, hazy and beautiful evergreen eyes met hers, she blushed, heart skipping in her chest, butterflies fluttering delightfully in her stomach.

Adrien Rousseau had just kissed her. In the middle of a busy café. He had kissed her. Yet she didn’t feel embarrassed. She didn’t feel the intense excitement or disbelief. Instead, she felt warm. Very warm. A little bashful. Safe. Wanted. Loved. Why had the kiss with the man she could only ever fantasize about in her younger more naïve years, feel so wonderfully right?

Adrien smiled against her, laughing softly. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that. To kiss you.”

“I … me too.” She whispered.

“Sorry for never realising what was right in front of me the whole time, Marinette.” He murmured, fingertips tracing across the soft skin of her freckled cheek.

“It’s – it’s okay. I’m here. I’m still here.”

Adrien couldn’t help it. Those words were his everything. She was here. She was real, in his arms. She had never left. She had always been waiting, for him. He captured her lips again with his own, bringing her close. She felt amazing, so soft, so perfect, as if she was made for his lips alone.

“W-wait! A-Adrien! We’re in public!” Marinette said, a little breathless, as he lightly kissed the corner of her mouth.

“Sigh – you’re right. We need to go somewhere private, somewhere where I know people won’t interrupt me whilst I declare my love for you.”

Marinette pulled back, her freckled face blushing even brighter than before. He had completely stunned her.

“Y-you, you love me?” Marinette’s voice was so hesitant and quiet as she anxiously gripped her napkin.

Adrien could only smile fondly at her, eyes glowing with affection. He could only ever be honest with her.

“Huh, yeah. I guess telling that I love you before the first date is a little awkward.” He muttered sheepishly.

But Marinette shook her head. “No, no!” she said quickly, “I … I don’t mind that you already … that you already love me.”

Yes. He loved her. He always had.

“Yes. I think I’ve been in love with you for a very long time. I was just, too much of an idiot to see it.” He finally confessed helplessly, with a shrug of his shoulders.

“I – I love you too.” She admitted, “Not as the fifteen year old girl you used to know but …”

Adrien cradled Marinette’s face in the palm of his hand, stroking her cheek with his thumb. She nuzzled into his touch, her small hands holding his own as she hesitantly pressed a kiss to his palm.

And there it was. His answer. It really was possible to fall deeper in love with Marinette. How could he not when she did things like that?

“I know, Mari. And I might not have realised that I loved you then, but I definitely love you now.”

Marinette smiled, bright blue eyes burning like brilliant sapphires.

“C-Can we get out of here? Just the two of us?” she said softly.

“Anything for you, Mari.” And he placed a kiss on her forehead. And he would. He’d do anything for her. He’d give her anything; everything!. He’d give her everything and more.

\-----

The two of them walked hand in hand down the wet streets. Despite the mud, despite the busy chaos of Paris still trying to right itself after the flood, Marinette and Adrien didn’t seem to care. In fact, they had completely forgotten about the world around them, lost in their own little world of happiness.

As they walked closer towards the Dupain-Cheng bakery, Marinette was relieved to see the place completely gutted and void of any water. Her parents were busy talking to the workmen that had helped them.

“Need me to do anything?” Adrien asked gesturing to the bakery.

Marinette shook her head. “Honestly, Adrien. It’s fine. I – ”

“I want to help.” Adrien said softly, taking her hands.

“I … well, can you help me with getting some new ingredients for the bakery sometime, like the flour, icing sugar, butter and stuff. Most of the perishable goods got spoiled.”

“Of course. What about now?”

“Uhh … would – would you like to stay for dinner?” Marinette asked shyly.

Adrien gave Marinette’s hands a squeeze. “Dinner would be great.”

Meanwhile, Tom and Sabine watched their daughter from afar.

“Tom,” Sabine said casually. “You owe me 20 euros.”

Tom only grumbled as he dug into his pocket. “Here you go.”

Sabine could only give a smug grin.

\-----

Chat was on cloud nine as he raced across the rooftops. He had kissed his Princess. His Princess had kissed him back. She had said that she loved him. She loved him! And his entire heart wanted to sing. He couldn’t stop smiling broadly, his white teeth gleaming in the moonlight.

Tonight he would see her. He couldn’t keep away from her. Tonight he knew he had to be careful. After kissing her as Adrien he suspected Marinette might be apprehensive about seeing him as Chat Noir, probably out of guilt for rejecting him. The kiss pretty much sealed the deal. She would probably be pacing up and down, trying to find the right words to say to him, panicking and fearing that his superhero counterpart would be alone. He would give her time first to adjust being with him as a civilian. When the time was right, he would tell her the truth. He only hoped that Marinette could love his other darker side … his truer self.

As he expected she was waiting for him, on her balcony, worry and remorse creasing her face. His princess looked so sad and he wanted nothing more to kiss the sadness away. But he couldn’t. Not yet at least.

Lithe and agile, he tumbled onto her balcony with ease, landing on the floor with a soft bump.

“Princess? Why are you so sad tonight?” He asked gently.

“Chat?” She turned towards him, voice tentative.

“Did – did things not go well with the boy you’re in love with?”

Marinette shook her head. “No. Quite the opposite. It went really well. I … we … we kissed. He told me that he loved me. I told him that I loved him.”

“Then why is my princess so down-hearted? This is surely something you should be celebrating about.”

“Because I’m happy; I’m happy and you’re not,” she whispered. “It’s not fair that I get to find happiness but you don’t. It’s … it’s so selfish of me.”

Adrien’s heart ached. So that’s was it – she was sad because she felt guilty for being happy, for wanting to be happy.

“Oh Marinette, believe me. I have never been happier. That you’re finally with the man that you’ve been pining for since school. You’re in love; you get to be with the man you’ve always wanted. why shouldn't I be happy for my Princess?”

“C-Chat. You – why do you have to be so selfless?”

“For my you … I would do anything. I would do anything for my Princess; to ensure her happiness and to keep her from harms way.”

And he pulled her into a tight hug. He felt her tremble against him, crying softly from relief. He hushed her, rocking her back and forth in gentle comfort.

“Shhhh. Don’t cry, Marinette. Be happy. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. I will always be there for you.”

“Chat!” She whimpered, clutching tighter to him.

“I’ve got you, Princess. Everything’s going to be all right. Be happy for me. Just as I am, for you.”

Marinette pulled away from him only to press a soft kiss on his cheek. Chat stared at her with wide green eyes, surprise washing over his masked face.

“Thank you chatton. Thank you so much.”

The spot where she had kissed him tingled and warmed. Beneath his mask, Chat was blushing. And he gave his princess a tight grin before giving a mock bow. Yup – he was utterly head over heels for this girl.

“Anything for you, Princess.”

And he leapt of the roof, running into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Adrienette fluff for you guys <3


	27. That Wasn't Supposed To Happen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

Marinette sat down at the desk she had been designated, in the small office at the back of the dance studio. It was simply furnished, with two computers and two seats, draws full of stationary, filing cabinets, a couple of shelves built into the off white walls, a cork board suitable for notes, a calendar, brochures, contact details and other events. Whenever Marinette needed fresh air, she opened the small office window. It was an ordinary office but it filled the necessary requirements for her job. It had taken a little under two weeks before life seemingly returned to normal, before she could start living her life again. With fixing the bakery, helping her parents, struggling to complete the additional changes to her major work, completing the final costume draft changes for her elective, and quitting her old job to start her new one, Marinette could finally breathe a sigh of relief. Since the kiss, she had been spending a great deal of her time with Adrien. Every waking moment, actually. Or rather, Adrien had spent every waking moment with Marinette. She would find the man on her front doorstep and eager to help, when it came to fixing the bakery or helping Marinette during each shopping trip for fresh ingredients and new crockery. He helped Marinette’s father move, carry and install the heavier kitchen appliances whilst Marinette helped her mother organise the shop front. It was a busy two weeks, the two of them barely having enough time to themselves and to really spend time with one another. Yet regardless of what they were doing, she still cherished being with him, whether it was unpacking new plates, painting the walls a clean white or replacing the grouting on the new floor tiles. 

Adrien still kissed her. Not on the lips. Not since that first kiss in the café. But his lips would always brush against her forehead or her cheek. Marinette’s cheeks in return would burn a vivid red, the simple affectionate touch enough to make her heart pound erratically in her chest. But she had come to find the gesture incredibly comforting, assuring even. Although Adrien had said he loved her that one time, she didn’t need to hear him say it again. She didn’t expect him to say it. Actions often spoke louder than words. The soft brush of his lips against her skin was more than enough. Granted they couldn’t kiss in front of her parents … or Alya for that matter. They hadn’t even started dating yet. Nothing was ‘official’ in terms of what they were to one another. Marinette knew Adrien was the man she loved. But she had yet to come to the realisation that Adrien could in fact be her boyfriend. 

Today was different. Unlike the other days, she didn’t have to worry about going home to make it back in time for dinner, when evening came. It was her third day at her new job. She had headed straight to the studio from her one-hour lecture. Alya was already waiting for her, busy tapping at her computer keyboard and frowning at the screen whilst Marinette busied herself with promotional sketches. She was working on banner and flyer designs for the Annual Ball. The designs had to be finished by the end of the week. There were also orders from the ‘Bachateros’, an Intermediate Couples Team for new performance costumes, which she had to redesign and see too that all were made correctly. Stüdaria didn’t quite have what the team needed so Anita had asked Marinette to design exactly what they wanted. She was meeting a representative next week to discuss potential fabrics and most of all … pricing. She had only started three days ago and she was already in the thick of it.

Marinette at least had something to look forward to today. During a trip to the hardware store to get wooden boards to replace the framing for the shop front, Adrien had shyly asked her on a date. Squeaking in surprise, having lost her voice from the shock, she could only nod eagerly, jumping into his arms and giving him a tight hug. Realising her mistake she quickly pulled away, her freckled face a flaming red as she clasped her hands to her mouth, absolutely mortified. She had been so worried that she had been too forward, too excited. But Adrien had merely smiled, bending down to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

“What are you smiling about?” Alya asked her, causing Marinette to snap out her daydream. She quickly busied herself sketching the final touches for the draft poster.

“Oh, n-nothing.” She said quickly.

“You’re blushing. And you’ve got that look on your face. Spill. I want deets, now!” Alya smirked, pausing from her work as she swivelled on her chair to face her new colleague.

“Am not!” She protested.

“Girl – you’re bright red. What happened?”

“I … nothing of importance.”

“You know, I’ll just ask Kim and Max. They’ll probably know something about you.” Alya shrugged, getting out her phone to text, ready to text them.

“There’s nothing going on between me and Adrien!” She squealed.

Alay gave a smug grin. “When did I ever say Adrien was involved?”

Marinette slumped into her chair, face planting against her work and the desk with a thud. “I hate you.”

“You love me. Now deets. Adrien Agreste.”

“Rousseau. His last name is Rousseau.”

“You know you never did tell me about that. But you can explain later.” Alya said crossing her arms. “Now explain to me exactly what happened between the two of you. Has my ship since college finally sailed?”

“Your … huh?”

“I’m thinking of calling you Marien. No. Adrienette! That’s hashtag material there.”

“Oh for the love – want me to give you details or not?” Marinette huffed.

“Deets.” Her best friend said smugly.

“Well … you know how Adrien and I have been getting, well closer since the bakery incident.”

“Closer emotionally, you mean. I mean you practically skipped the emotional part and went straight to the body humping.”

Marientte merely gave her best friend a hard glare.

“Fine, fine.” Alya said defensively. “I’ll keep quiet.”

“Kay … so, I guess, since then, bit by bit, we started getting closer emotionally. I guess, since he’s my dance partner, we kinda had to be friends, to trust one another. But during the flood, Adrien did … he did more than you or I could have imagined, for my family, for me. He did more than what was necessary. He knows we can’t ever repay him and he still chooses to help us.”

Alya nodded. “Go on.”

“So, we went to the café he took me the first time. And, well. I thanked him. How could I not? He frantically tried to stop the water from getting into the bakery. He salvaged so much so we wouldn’t have to buy more. He saved all of the money we had in the cash register, bringing it to us safe and sound. He even managed to get rid of the tree that had smashed into the shop front, all on his own, alone, in the cold pouring rain. He could have gone home, or at least stayed upstairs with me where it was safe. But instead, he chose to help, right up to the moment my parents got back. And he still insists on helping them. And he helped … he helped me, Alya. He stayed with me during the flood, when everything was going bad, when I felt so useless. He carried me back upstairs. He got me undressed when I was too cold to move, got me in the shower and-”

“Woah! Hold up! You … Adrien. Together. In the shower! NAKED!” Alya squealed grabbing her friend’s shoulders, jumping up and down.

“No! Of course not!” Marinette exclaimed. “You’re getting way to excited about this. I was still in my underwear.”

“Marinette … Adrien knows what you look like without clothes on! This is big news!!!!” 

“You know – I can stop telling this story whenever I want.” Marinette glowered.

Alya stuck out a tongue at her friend. “Fine. Evil woman. Continue.”

“So, like I was saying, Adrien did so much, for nothing. And at the café, I had to thank him for all that he did. And he told me there was nothing for me to thank.” Marinette concluded.

“Wait … he said that? Why’d he say that?” Alya’s hazel eyes creased in confusion.

“He – he told me that … that he’d do anything for me to keep me happy, to keep me from getting hurt.” She said softly, looking at her hands.

“He said – wow? Really?” Alya asked, surprise gracing her face. She had known Adrien to be a very charming and a very good person but not the type of guy to be openly honest, particularly when it came to confessing one’s true feelings. He was far more reserved than that. This was incredibly unexpected. What had changed him?

Marinette nodded. “At first I didn’t understand what he was trying to say, so I asked him.”

“Well – what happened next?”

“He … he kissed me. And I kissed him back.” Marinette whispered, her cheeks dusting pink with warmth, lips still tingling at the memory. 

Alya said nothing. There was just silence. And Marinette could only watch the biggest smile plaster itself on her best friend’s face. 

Work was going to be very long.

\-----

She saw Adrien outside, waiting for her as he leaned casually against the wall. How could he look so beautiful in simple but well cut jeans, a crisp white button down shirt, and a dark evening jacket? Even resting against the side of a wall, he seemed to radiate his modelling profession his tousled golden locks and green eyes glowing in the orange setting sun. She had changed out of her casual clothes into one of her favourite dresses. It was peach-pink, feminine and girly, made of lace, with a soft billowing skirt that fell just above her knees. Wanting to put a bit of height on her, she wore her most comfortable heeled boots. Alya had insisted that she do her friend’s make up and her hair, quickly styling it in soft loose raven curls that bounced whenever she walked. 

Adrien didn’t see her walking towards him, as her boots lightly clicking the pavement. He was tapping the keys of his phone.

“Um … hey.”

Adrien smiled, without looking up at first. “Hey, Marinette. You ready to g-”

From the moment Adrien finally set his eyes on her, he was at a loss for words, breath hitching in his throat. Marinette stood before him, her freckled face smiling shyly at him and her blue eyes fluttering sheepishly in the evening light. She was quietly clasping a white clutch bag. His Princess, Marinette, looked absolutely beautiful tonight. Her long-sleeved dress was so feminine, flirty with a coquettish air to it; the style fit her perfectly, completely capturing Marinette’s personality. And it hugged her slender figure well. Her usual straight pigtailed hair hung loose in billowing curls, which had been swept to one side, to frame her face, whilst revealing one side of her pale swan-like neck. Simple and elegant diamond studs had adorned her earlobes. The added height of her boots, made her slender toned legs look even longer and Adrien couldn’t help wonder if he’d been staring at them a little too much. As for her incredibly lovely face, her make up had been done simply. Granted, she didn’t need any makeup but tonight the soft pink make blush dusted across her cheeks, her deep pink lips and the elegant eyeliner that had been swept across her eyes, only accentuated her distinct and beautiful features.

“Wow.” He found himself gasping.

Marinette looked away sheepishly. ”I – um …”

“I, um, sorry. Wh-what I meant to say is … you look … you look so beautiful tonight.”

Marinette gave a soft smile, her blue eyes glowing in the waning light. “Thank you. Y-you also look … g-good. I mean; you always do, but … uh … yeah.”

“Um … I – I have something for you.” Adrien said quietly, a blush tinting his cheeks. He reached for the inside pocket of his jacket carefully. He seemed so nervous. Marinette had never seen him nervous, particularly around someone as awkward as her. 

“So – I know this is a little old fashioned. But I saw this in the flower shop and, well … I thought it would look lovely on you.” 

Marinette gasped when he finally pulled out a corsage of delicate white blossoms. Gently taking her left hand, he tied them around her wrist. 

“Umm … sorry, if they mess up your outfit. I mean; I hope that they don’t. But if you don’t like it I-” Adrien stammered, unable to look at those stunning blue eyes of hers.

Butterflies fluttered into her stomach and her heart ached deep within her chest, as she gazed at the soft silken petals that tickled her skin. Summoning up the courage, she stood on her on the tips of her toes, brushing a soft kiss to Adrien’s cheek.

“They’re perfect. Thank you.” She murmured against his skin before pulling away, blushing.

Adrien’s cheeks also reddened, a smile of delight gracing his lips. He took her hand.

“Shall we?” he asked, escorting her away from the building.

“Lets.” And she gave a happy smile.

\-----

Adrien took her to a beautiful restaurant, on the top floor of a hotel, looking over the Parisian city at night. He had booked a table for them in a private alcove, away from curious eyes and whispers. But even walking into the restaurant Marinette could hear the soft whispers. But most of them were about her, or more specifically why of all people was she the one Adrien Agreste, internationally famed model, had decided to take out to dinner.

Adrien merely squeezed her hand, comforting her as she held her head high, ignoring their insensitive side comments and the occasional glares from the more beautiful intimidating ladies. Adrien on the other hand took no notice. He was used to it. But he was concerned for Marinette, who struggled not to flinch at some of the more inappropriate words that were uttered. He gently pulled her close to his side, slipping an arm around her waist. To both the staff and the customers, he simply stared at them, green eyes challenging them to even mutter one more negative comment about the tiny girl under his arm.

“Wow. Had I known you’d be taking me to such a fancy restaurant, I would have dressed more appropriately.” Marinette murmured, glancing at her surroundings when they finally made it to their outside table. Adrien pulled out a chair for her and she sat down with a bashful smile.

“You’re perfect as you are.” Adrien assured her, as he sat down.

“I – thank you for taking me out tonight.”

“After what’s happened between us – I think both of us deserve it, especially you. Besides …” 

Adrien said with a smile then paused for a moment before he added playfully, “Most people kiss after the first date.”

Marientte blushed as she giggled. “I guess what we did was a little backwards, with the kiss, saying I love you. N-not that I regret it.”

“I don’t regret saying that I love you either.”

“I – I just hope I can get to say I love you more often.” She said softly.

“I hope so too.” Adrien’s voice was gentle.

A waiter came over to them: female. And she clearly recognised Adrien. And she purposely put her back towards her, only addressing him. Marinette didn’t know whether to frown in annoyance or to simply roll her eyes and accept reality. She knew something like this would happen, and she simply let the overly warm and flirtatious ordering of food, play out before her.

“Mari? You okay?” Adrien asked. 

Adrien’s warm voice full of concern snapped her out of her inner-fuming monologue. “Oh – uh, sorry. What were you saying?”

“I said order whatever you like on the menu. I’ve got this.”

Marinette frowned. “I – Adrien. You don’t have to pay for me.”

“If I didn’t pay for a date it wouldn’t be considered a date. My mother didn’t raise a moron.” He gave her a slight smile. Marinette didn’t miss the fact that their waitress was giving her the stink eye, disliking the sudden shift of attention.

“Really – you’ve done so much for me already, I -”

“- Am not going to let my ‘girlfriend’ pay for dinner that I wanted to treat her with.” Adrien said simply.

Marinette gave a squeak, face burning bright red. Adrien flashed the waitress a bright smile. But she could see there was something else in his eyes, something darker and more … dangerous. He was warning the waitress to back off. And her heart hammered in her chest. Wait. Had Adrien called her his ‘girlfriend’? As in … Adrien’s girlfriend; official … she was actually the girlfriend of the man she had pined and adored from afar since her college years?

“I – okay. Uh, do I get just a main meal, or should I get a starter as well?” Marinette asked him, glancing nervously at the menu. Her eyes widened. The prices were obscene.

“… Adrien …” Marientte began but Adrien cut her off.

“I’m paying. End of discussion.”

She grumbled. “Uh … um, can I order the Artichoke Risotto, please?”

“Drinks? Any wine preference?” Adrien asked her.

“Uh – I’ll have what ever you have.”

“The Sauvignon Blanc, please.” The waitress flashed him a coy teasing smile. Adrien barely looked at her.

“Can we also have some water for the table?” Marinette asked the waitress who turned back reluctantly, no, not reluctantly. She turned to Marinette as if serving her was a chore for her

“Sure thing.” Their waitress said sourly. But when Marinette saw the waitress look at her up and down, wrinkling her nose as if she were a bad smell, that was the final straw. If the was one thing she couldn’t stand, it was being looked down on. She had had to deal with years of it from Chloe Bourgeois. And she wasn’t going to put up with it anymore. Not from Chloe and especially not from her.

“If you have a problem with my appearance, then just say so.” Marinette said flatly, her blue eyes hardening as she gave the waitress a scowl. 

The waitress took a step back, evidently surprised by her sudden change in demeanour. Oh – so their server thought she was one of those typically shy, never-voice-their-own-opinion types? This woman was in for a very nasty shock.

“I take it that you don’t quite like me. Guess what. I’m fine with that. But don’t ignore me and don’t even think about turning your nose up at me.”

She looked to her companion. And she wanted to giggle. He looked so … shocked by her outburst. She couldn’t wait until the day she swore in public.

“Adrien, is there something on my face? Is my make-up smudged somewhere?” She asked the man sitting opposite her who stared at her stunned. He had been completely taken aback by her sudden fire. It wasn’t something he hadn’t seen. He remembered the heated arguments from their college days, mainly revolving around a certain blonde haired female that most of the student body disliked. But rarely was she angry in front of him, and alone. Then he grinned.

“Yes. There is something on your face” He smirked, green eyes suddenly devious as he caught on what Marinette was trying to do. Two could play at that game.

“Oh?” Marinette frowned. “What is it?” This wasn’t the answer she was expecting. She was hoping for a little back up.

“This.” And Adrien stood, leaning over the table as he captured Marinette’s lips with his own, his eyes fluttering closed. Adrien kissed her lightly, remembering the softness and tender touch of her lips moving against his. 

Marientte hadn’t expected him to do that. Bright blue eyes went wide in realisation on what was happening at that very moment. She didn’t recoil from in shock. Instead, Adrien felt her tremble against his lips, uttering soft moan in surprise. The sudden movement of her lips caused him to gasp unintentionally. And by complete accident, the openness of their mouths allowed the tip of his tongue to lightly brush the inside of Marinette’s lower lip; slowly extending to stroke the soft wet surface of her tongue. The touch, the heat, and the silken wet flesh upon the very moment their tongues touched, sent the both of them into a sudden and scorching haywire of passionate sensations.

Though the kiss had lasted for a few brief moments, the highly unanticipated spark of heat caused both of them pulled back, breathless, as if they had been burned by it. Sapphire eyes were wide. She had beem completely rendered speechless, words stuck in her throat. She was shocked, embarrassed and shy; her freckled face a lovely pink. Adrien’s heart hammered in his chest, mirroring Marinette’s blush. He looked at the table, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. That wasn’t supposed to happen. What had meant to be a quick teasing peck of a kiss had turned into something a far more intimate and far more amorous for a date in a public vicinity. Neither of them had realised their waitress had left their table, walking away stiffly from the scene that had just occurred. Her face had gone absolutely white with shock and humiliation. Yet neither of them cared. Instead, Marinette and Adrien stared at one another with soft, awkward and very bashful gazes, the air suddenly thick with nervous tension.

Adrien was the first to break the silence. “S-sorry. I – That wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”

“N-no. It – It’s okay.” Marinette stammered, looking at her hands. It really was okay. More than okay. Yet the nerves in the pit of her stomach didn’t settle.

“I – I hope that I wasn’t too forward.” Adrien murmured, evergreen eyes apologetic, guilt washing his face.

Marinette shook her head. “You – you weren’t forward at all. I – I was just surprised.”

“Same.” Adrien admitted.

“After our first kiss in the café, I didn’t expect our next one on the lips to be … ” Marinette couldn’t say it.

“Like that?”

Marientte nodded. “Yeah. But really Adrien, you – you didn’t do anything I didn’t like.”

“I … really?” He asked, his warm voice uncertain.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Adrien. It wasn’t bad. The kiss, it was nice. Very n-nice. No – I mean; it’s not that I didn’t like it it’s just I …” Marinette was unsure on how to say it as she babbled hopelessly in front of him. “I’ve never … I’ve never done anything like that before.” 

She shyly looked at Adrien. His beautiful green eyes stared at her intensely. He fixed her with a hazy gaze that made her stomach flutter and her heart stir with longing for him.

“Really?”

She nodded. Granted, there were a few drunken kisses from guys she had met at clubs or social dance nights. But she had never instigated it. She had never even wanted the kiss to happen in the first place. It was those times she was thankful she hadn’t lost her first kiss at a seedy bar; that Chat Noir had been her first. Marinette would shove, or even kick on occasion, men off of her whilst she firmly kept her lips sealed in a thin and very unamused line, in the hopes of avoiding tongue on tongue contact. From her experiences she had always anticipated ‘more involved’ kissing to be far more unpleasant. But with Adrien it had been different. It had been a complete accident. It had taken her by surprised, the soft gentle touch, like a loving caress, the burning heat, the smooth and slick contact of flesh on flesh, and the sudden stir of passion, excitement and arousal deep within her. Everything at once from the unexpected touch had sent a thrill through her, as fast as a bolt of lightning straight to her core. She had been surprised, but pleasantly surprised. And Marinette found herself, blushing from the memory. The kiss had felt good, natural … incredible. 

Marinette gave a shy hesitant nod. “Y-yeah. I mean; you’re the first person I’ve kissed like … well … that.”

She watched Adrien’s smile grow wide on his face, evergreen eyes dazzling at the realisation.

“Let you into a secret.” He whispered. “You’re also the first person I’ve kissed, like that.”

Marinette’s blush deepened and she gaze a soft chuckle. “… Wow.”

“Indeed.”

“I – I hope that the experience wasn’t too awkward.” 

Adrien shrugged, his smile light, his voice gentle and teasing. “I guess that’s why people say, practice makes perfect.”

“Y-you want to – um … practice later?” She offered, her eyes bashful.

When evergreen eyes darkened, turning hazy with longing, Marinette trembled in her seat, heart skipping a beat when Adrien finally spoke.

“I might just take you up on that offer, Mari.” Adrien murmured and he gave her a cat-like grin.

\-----

Dinner with Adrien was wonderful, the two of them talked reminiscing about school, what they hoped to accomplish, their studies, anything whilst they ate their food and sipped their wine. Overlooking the Paris, the night was perfect and Marinette couldn’t have imagined a better way to end her evening. That was until Adrien had surprised her by ordering a dark chocolate fondant cake accompanied by white chocolate and vanilla ice cream for the two of them to share.

“Despite me breaking the rules of a model diet … we must uphold our tradition of not conforming to milk chocolate babies.” He grinned. Marinette could only giggle.

The two of them left, deciding to take the slow way back to Marinette’s home, walking. Adrien escorted her all the way home, the two hand in hand as they strolled in the moonlight. Marinette had thought he would drop her off at her doorstep, as he did before. But instead, he led her to the park opposite her family’s bakery. At night, there was no one there, it was silent, covered in shadow but she wasn’t frightened.

Heart thumping erratically in her chest as a hand gently pulled her into the private and quiet world, Marinette followed him without resistance. She wasn’t afraid. She was nervous but she felt no fear. She trusted him inexplicably. Time stood still for her when she suddenly found herself moving backwards, her back pressed carefully against one of the park trees. In the dark night, the shadows hid her away. She was safe; no one would see her with him. Eyes having adjusted to the dim light, she could see him staring down at her with piercing vivid evergreen eyes, as he stepped into her space. He caged her in. She couldn’t escape and she didn’t want to. Lips brushed against her own. And she sighed into the kiss.

How could kissing the man she had adored from afar for six long and lonely years, feel so natural; so perfect? Soft tender touches of lips moving against each other easily slid into something far more intimate. Marinette gasped when she felt his warm tongue trace the shape of her mouth. Unable to hide the moan in her throat she let him explore her, her own tongue hesitantly meeting his, the slick muscle caressing her mouth. Soft gasps and moans where uttered, as noses brushed against each other, and they drank each other’s pleasured sounds. Eyes had fluttered closed as they both lost themselves into the open and hot kiss. Hands that had hesitantly been cradling cheeks, reached up to wrap tightly around a neck, bringing the man closer and closer. He deepened the kiss, uttering a low groan. One hand tangled in silken raven hair, the other slid down a slender back, pressing her close to him. He had pressed himself against her, his thigh gently slipping in between her own, causing the skirt of her dress to ride upwards, teasingly revealing her thighs. He couldn’t help but trace his fingers downwards, past the delicate rise of her hip to the soft bared flesh, stroking the surface. He explored her beautiful waist, her slender neck, and the delicate shape of her collarbone. He even dared to trace the sides of the soft swell of her breasts, feeling her arch towards him for more of his touch.

Her breath hitched and she gave the softest of whimpers when he pulled her leg up around his hips, his pelvis meeting hers. He gave a low breathless chuckle as he kissed her harder, struggling to concentrate as the hot wonderful friction caused him to shudder against her. He could feel how sensitive she was, her skin trembling beneath his fingertips wherever he touched, wherever he stroked. He couldn’t stop marvelling at how beautiful and how perfect she felt beneath his hands. It was if she was made for him to hold, for him to adore, and only him. And she could feel him, all of him, the chiselled warm planes of his body against her own soft curves, the hard swollen need rubbing against her groin. In her lust-addled state she blushed, realising the effect he had on him. It made her feel powerful and feminine, knowing that she could render such an extraordinary man to such a state, that he found her sexy … that she could perhaps one day be the one to give him the same pleasure as he was giving her now.

What they were doing in the park was far too hot. The heat was scorching, dizzying, spiralling out of control. They were going far too fast. Both Adrien and Marinette knew that they had to stop, to slow down. Nothing had been made official yet. They had only had one date. They had only kissed tenderly, out of comfort and gentle affection. This was anything but tender. This was desperate. This was pure, raw, carnal desire, physical proof of their utmost devotion for each other. It was the physical need to explore new boundaries and to sate newly discovered desires within each of them. And neither had the willpower let alone the reasoning or the sense to stop. Any coherent rational form of thinking had been short circuited by the scorching kiss long ago. The kiss burned the both of them. The passionate heat made with every suck, every rustle of fabric, every hesitant touch from exploring hands, every gasp, every pant and every moan, stirred a dark delicious longing within the both of them. It caused their hearts to pound frantically in their chests, their lungs to gasp desperately for oxygen, their minds to go hazy until reason was incomprehensible, and their loins to ache with need and newfound arousal. 

The need to breathe again became too much for either of them, and she moaned at the loss when Adrien pulled away. Both of them panted for oxygen but Marinette gave a soft cry when Adrien’s mouth wandered to the side of her throat, nose skimming across the skin. Adrien couldn’t stop. He didn’t know how. It was as if he’d been taken over by the obsessive need, no, the instinct, to love the girl in his arms. He kissed the sensitive skin, her quiet mewl of delight enough to send a bolt of pleasure right down to his groin. His jeans were far too tight around him. He groaned, kissing one particular spot harder, sucking and lapping at the skin.

“A-Adrien! Wait!” Marinette pleaded absolutely breathless. “Ahhh! My parents! Oh! They’ll see!”

“I want everyone to see.” He growled, the carnal possessive urge to make her, his completely, to mark her as his own, taking him by a storm. Seeing the physical evidence, seeing his mark on her only fuelled the raging desire within him. He sucked on the tender silken flesh harder. Marinette couldn’t fight him. Like him, she didn’t know how. Her head fought for one thing but her heart and some deeper more seductive and far more animalistic urge inside her body, made her to submit to him. She wanted this. She wanted him, all of him. She needed him to make her, his, even if it meant proving to the world rather inconspicuously. She was willing to bear any mark he left behind. When Adrien gently bit the skin, Marinette could only sob a moan.

“M-Mari! You need to stop making those sounds. Otherwise I won’t be able to stop at just this.” He groaned. He had to stop soon or he’d internally combust. Otherwise he's do something he’d regret. 

“What – what if I don’t want you to stop?” Marinette said softly, as he finally gave the bruising skin a soft kiss.

Adrien chuckled hoarsely. “Believe me I don’t. But we’ve only had one date. You - you deserve more than just a quick rendezvous in the park. I want to treat you right, I want to love you the right way. This … what we’re doing right now – is too fast.”

Marinette groaned in frustration. “You honestly can’t leave me like … well … all hot and bothered.”

Adrien smirked against the side of her neck before pulling away to face her, dark and lust- filled evergreen eyes slowly returning to their usual brightness. “Excuse me – I believe I have it harder than you … literally.”

He gestured to the very prominent bulge to the front of his jeans. Rather than blushing out of embarrassment, Adrien was taken aback when Marinette moved her thigh a little, purposely giving the delicious friction his lower half craved. He trembled, uttering a hiss.

“M-Mari! Stop!” Adrien groaned. “I made a promise to myself and to you, to fall in love with you the right way. I intend to keep to that promise.”

Marinette cocked her head to the side, “What do you mean the ‘right’ way?”

“Like I said. The ‘right’ way. You had to spend all those years waiting for me, dealing with my idiocy. You deserve to be with someone who treats you right, and gives you everything and more. So I – I want to take this a bit slower. Or at the very least … wait after a couple more dates before we get intimate. Well intimate to the point of physical skin on skin contact, despite our interest in body grinding on a dance floor.” Adrien said gently, willing his heat beat to calm down and for his arousal dissipate. The heat was slowly dying. His sense of reason was returning.

“I … you really want that?” Marinette asked shyly. “To – to be with me.”

Adrien took her hands, giving her a teasing smile as he finally took in her dishevelled appearance. 

“Honestly I didn’t expect us to go this far tonight.” He couldn’t help but feel a thrill of pride as he saw the very prominent love bite that marred his princess’s smooth milky skin.

“But I want to give you the relationship you’ve always wanted. The only way to do that is to that is at least take our time.”

“You want to be in a relationship with me. Like dating … officially dating? Boyfriend and g-girlfriend?” she was stammering, eyes incredibly bashful as she looked up at him.

How could Marinette turn from a sex goddess to someone so adorable in the expanse of a minute? “If you’d let me, Marinette, I’d be honoured to be your boyfriend. And you have no idea how happy it would make me if you were my girlfriend.”

“Does that mean I can say that I love you, again?”

Adrien’s heart melted at the words. He pressed a soft kiss to Marinette’s somewhat swollen lips. She eagerly returned the kiss, pulling herself closer to him.

“Say it as many times as you want.” He whispered against her lips, their still hot foreheads, touching.

“I’d love to be your girlfriend.” She murmured, smiling bright and beautiful.

Adrien grinned, kissing her softly, “I love you, Marinette.”

“I – I love you.” She whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Some Adrienette action! Because all you lovely readers deserve it!!! I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> This is the dress Marinette was wearing: (See Link( http://24myfashion.com/2016/wp-content/uploads/2015/12/wpid-pink-lace-dress-with-sleeves-2016-2017-0.jpg


	28. ‘Seemingly Ordinary’ Girlfriend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

Marinette was having a slight breakdown. There were so many things to consider and to take care of and she had no idea how she was going to do any of them in the one day. Firstly she had to help her parents with the final bakery supplies, having to go to the store to pick up their new equipment. She also had to show her potential fabric options for her elective costumes, to both Adrien and her best friend Alya who would be at the dance studio for their scheduled practice. And she really had to go on patrol. She’d been neglecting her duty as Ladybug, since the flood had Marientte busy assisting her family with the necessary arrangements. All of these things would have been fine. She could deal with the pressure of being everywhere all at once. There was just one teensy-tiny little insignificant detail.

“Tiki! What am I going to do?!” She yelped, eyeing her reflection in the mirror in utter despair. She had tried make-up. That didn’t work, the bruising far too dark to hide. She had tried turtlenecks or at the very least opted to wear a decorative scarf. But the sudden change of warmer weather outside made it impossible to wear such things without causing suspicion. Marinette was screwed. No matter what she did, she couldn’t for the love of all that was holy, hide the very large love-bite situated on the side of her neck. And she very well couldn’t go out in public with it.

Why had she let it get that far? She hadn’t regretted it then. But she was certainly regretting the need for Adrien to leave physical evidence of their side-stop in the park, now. How could she explain it to her parents?! She hadn’t told them that she had only just started dating her dance partner and love of her life. And then there was Alya – oh my god. Alya! How would she react if she saw the very large purplish bruising on her pale white skin? Marinette wondered if the excuse of accidently falling and hitting the side of her neck was good enough for them. She was exceptionally clumsy. The story seemed to be the most plausible; the most believable considering her klutziness and tendency to hurt herself because of it. But the idea was quickly scrapped when she saw Adrien’s very evident bite marks.

Marinette gave a slight wince when her fingers brushed the hickey, the skin still tender from where Adrien had loved her that night in the park. She couldn’t help but blush, a strange warmth stirring in her abdomen. What had gotten over her last night? Usually she was far more reserved, level headed and sensible. She should have told him to stop. She knew the consequences. She knew that she would have had to deal with the awkward explanations the coming morning. But she hadn’t. Not because she couldn’t speak or she had lost her voice. No. She hadn’t wanted him to stop – she wanted it. She wanted to feel Adrien mark her, to know he had left his presence on her skin. And Marinette couldn’t help but feel very shy about wanting something like that. Was it normal for people to be wanted in that way? The connection, the need to be claimed by another seemed so much more possessive, more desirable than what she was used to. Marientte had always been the romantic type, but last night had been borderline carnal.

Her kwami just eyed the very large love bite. “You don’t know how awkward it was being in your clutch purse. I’m so thankful you were sensible and practical enough not to go all the way … I think I would have gladly revealed myself to the entire world just so I wouldn’t have to witness my chosen having sexual intercourse.” Tiki said, crossing her tiny arms.

Marinette flushed a bright pink at Tiki’s embarrassing revelation. She had quite forgotten Tiki was still with her in her bag, as she kissed Adrien. And she had kept kissing him, as if starved for the man.

“Tiki! I’m so sorry you had to hear all of that.” Marinette groaned, absolutely mortified.

“I’m also happy Adrien is a gentleman and was sensible enough to do the right thing and stop you. He’s right; you need to take this relationship slow. And he wants to treat you the way you deserve. Cherish that.” Tiki advised. She didn’t want Marinette to rush into things. Her chosen had barely managed to solve her guilt with rejecting Chat. She didn’t need ‘too-fast-of-a-relationship’ on top of that.

Marinette nodded before frantically trying to figure out a way to fix the blatant ‘I-had-a-slight-rendezvous-in-the-park-with-someone-else-and-he-left-a-very-big-hickey’.

“I have to leave for the studio soon! What do I do Tiki?!” she asked, desperate for anything to solve her very embarrassing problem.

Tiki thought hard. And then her blue eyes shone as she finally had the perfect solution.

“Hey – how about a choker? Aren’t chokers in season right now, especially the really thick chunky ones? You know the simple chokers made from a single piece of coloured fabric, no diamantes or beading? Why not wear that with your outfit today; make it a fashionable statement. No one would know.”

Marinette didn’t own anything like that. She rarely wore jewellery apart from her miraculous earrings. But she gave a squeal in delight kissing her kwami’s cheek. “Tiki! You’re a genius! I’ve just enough time to make one!”

“Make one out of a similar fabric to your leotard. It will be less suspicious when you practice in front of Alya.”

Marinette grabbed her sewing kit and some stretchy black velvet she still had, and quickly got to work. She only had ten minutes before her parents expected her to be down for breakfast.

 

\-----

 

“That’s a really cute collar. It goes really well with your blazer. You should definitely wear them more often.” Sabine complimented as her daughter grabbed herself a croissant and her packed lunch.

Marinette tried not to blush. “Uh – yeah, thanks. I wanted to try something new with my clothes, since chokers are in fashion.”

She gave her mother a quick kiss and headed for the door, her feet tapping as she headed down stairs and out of the apartment.

Sabine merely gave an all-knowing smile as she sipped her tea. “Tom owes me another 10 euros.”

 

\-----

 

Marinette’s phone buzzed and she checked her phone screen.

**Modelling job I had to do on the weekend for Stüdaria’s newest collection got rescheduled for today. I can’t get out of it. Are you able to meet me at the Eiffel Tower? We can practice during the shoot. Shouldn’t be a problem. I hope you’re okay with this. – Adrien**

Marinette smiled. Of course she was fine with it. She wasn’t going to be the one that prevented Adrien from making a living.

_I’ll be there in 10 mins. <3_

It didn’t take long for her boyfriend to respond.

**< 3 <3 <3 You more.**

Catching the bus from her house, it didn’t take her long to get to the Paris’s most prominent landmark. And it took her even less time to find Adrien. All she needed to do was head to the cornered off area, filled with photo shoot equipment and photographers. She tried to ignore the number of fans, mostly girls, swooning behind the barriers. All of them were calling out his name, begging him to sign photographs. He merely smiled, politely declining every flirty advance, and grab of his arm or shirt. After all, he was working on the clock. Marinette was thankful Adrien was professional.

The tart tang of jealousy in her mouth and the fury that gnawed in the back of her mind was unfortunately smothered by the daunting and very apparent truth that so many girls were far more attractive and socially acceptable prospects for “spending the rest of ones life with”. In truth, Marinette in short was way out of her league. She knew that. Adrien was a model and still the presumptive heir of a prestigious fashion company despite Adrien’s divorce with his father. And she … she was just Marinette. What did  _she_ have to offer? She was just ordinary Marinette, a clumsy, highly awkward and somewhat talented fashion design student, whom also happened to be Paris’s most famous superhero. Her double-life only complicated her budding relationship. It was a secret, one so dark and so heavy that she knew she could never ever tell Adrien for the sake of his safety. Marinette was the worst girlfriend option Adrien could have chosen. It had never been a consideration that she could truly be the person Adrien cared about and loved with all of his heart. She might have dreamed about it in school, to the point she had even planned a grand church wedding and practiced writing Agreste as her last name. But she had been a stupid fifteen year old. At twenty-one she had simply accepted that school crushes were exactly what they were … a school crush, silly, idealistic and impossible.

However, something had changed. Something very unexpected happened. Adrien had fallen in love with her. She didn’t quite know how. Nor had she figured out when. Yet all of that that seemed irrelevant to the fact that Adrien Rousseau had chosen her, the awkward and semi-attractive girl that preferred to remain one of the invisibles. More than that, he was the one that wanted to be in a relationship with her. Adrien had wanted to be her boyfriend. He wanted her to be his girlfriend. Adrien had wanted it. Not Marinette. He had. He wanted her. And Marinette was still pinching herself to really understand the shocking reality of it.

As Marinette walked closer towards the photo shoot site, memories of her younger self, hiding behind a tree as he modelled, came flooding back. Marinette had seen Adrien do a couple of shoots before but that had been a long time ago. They had been more private and not nearly as manic as the one she saw now. It probably came with the price of becoming internationally famous after living in America.

Adrien spotted her first; ignoring his agent as he quickly jumped over the barrier, politely pushing past the gaggle of fans as he headed over her, the most dazzling grin on his beautiful face. Marientte gave a shy smile, blushing as she was brought into his arms. She gave a slight squeak of surprise but didn’t pull away, nestling happily in his arms.

“Thanks for coming. Sorry about this.” Adrien murmured against her dark hair, kissing her head. She hugged him back.

“N-not at all. Though I’m gonna get in trouble with all of these fan girls of yours. I’m sure to get the stink eye.” Marinette said, gesturing to the glares she was getting.

“Not if you’re with me.” Adrien promised, slipping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close as he guided her past tourists and fans alike towards the shoot, under the Eiffel Tower.

“A-Adrien!” Marinette gave a squeak but she didn’t protest, letting him lead the way.

“By the way – ” Adrien added casually. “Nice choker.”

Marinette blushed. “I was desperate okay!”

“As much as I would prefer you to have that thing off your neck, for appearances sake, lets wait until we’re in private.”

She nodded in agreement. “But … this is very … um … well, boyfriend and girlfriend like behaviour. Are you sure that, um – being this close is wise? Won’t people start asking questions?”

The two of them had only just started dating. Marinette knew that their relationship was going to be difficult: full of questions, intrusive comments, photographers and their flashing cameras, endless amounts of comments. It was going to be very public. Regardless of how Adrien dealt with his private life, his popularity as a model was bound to cause a bit of a strain on being together. But Marinette was prepared to brave any weather if it meant being with the man she loved. She had been through worse things. She could manage. Such things were petty and only made her stronger. Going through it with someone you cared about made the effort all the more worthwhile.

“I’m not going to hide the fact that I’m dating someone. Why should I hide the one person that’s made me so happy since I got back to Paris?”

Mariente gave a soft gasp, staring at her boyfriend in surprise. “H-Happy? I make you happy?”

“Marinette – your ability to make anyone in the room smile is amazing. Your laughter is infectious. And you’ve always been charming. Everyone in school loved you. Everyone smiled around you. You were always so popular. And yes, the few weeks that I’ve been with you, even before we started dating … you’ve made me very happy.”

Adrien’s evergreen eyes stared intently at Marinette’s lovely face, watching her reaction. She looked genuinely pleased, relieved almost if a little embarrassed but there was still something in her eyes. He couldn’t quite place it but he was almost certain it was concern, not for herself, but for him.

“I – your modelling career. I – people will ask questions. They’ll be invasive. I don’t want anything negative to jeopardise that. It might even affect your schooling! Wouldn’t it be safer to just … act like we used to, to ensure that doesn’t happen, just in case?”

Adrien’s face creased in confusion, eyes incredulous as he finally realised what he was saying. “You’re worried that acting like a ‘couple’ might hurt my career as a model and my university studies?”

Marinette gave a sad nod.

“You worry too much. And you’re far too selfless.” Adrien said.

Marinette could only respond with a very funny-sounding, “Huh?”

“I still want to be able to hug you, hold your hand; even kiss you on the cheek or even the lips if you let me. I’m proud to be your boyfriend, Marinette. And I’m proud and so happy that you’re my girlfriend. It’s not that I want to show you off to the rest of the world for the sake of ‘showing my girlfriend off’. But I don’t want to hide you away, like I’m ashamed of you or something. Being with you makes me so happy. I want to show everyone that this is the girl I love, that she’s the one. Yeah, I guess I won’t be able to love you like a ‘normal’ boyfriend considering what I do as a job but I still want to love you. I still want to kiss you, hold your hand, take you out on dates in public … I mean – as long as you’re comfortable with it.” Adrien said gently, green eyes concerned as he gazed at the tiny girl under his arm.

 _I’m the one?_ Marinette thought to herself, her heart aching hard in her chest for this beautiful man. “I – I don’t want to hide either.”

Marinette blushed as she spoke softly, looking at her hands. She was too shy to look at him. “I – I want to be able to kiss you in public too. It’s just … I’m worried that -”

“That people are gonna start asking questions to the point they’re a downright constant? Are you worried that they’ll hassle you?”

Marinette shook her head quickly. “I don’t care about them asking me questions – I’m – I’m actually good at fending off inappropriate or really insensitive comments. I’m just worried that … well … they’re gonna ask questions about me … well … not being, um – right for you.”

Adrien frowned pausing their walk mid-way. Marinette gave a wary glance at the crowd of fan girls heading their direction and her heart flipped at the notion of dealing with any of them. She couldn’t handle fans just yet. She didn’t know how. What on earth would she say to them?

But Adrien simply turned his head, staring all of them down with a piercing and very hard glare, his face cold. Without uttering one syllable, he warned them off, demanding that they give him and Marinette the space to have a heart to heart. He then gave a curt nod, signalling all of them to back away and turn the other direction. He gave a satisfied smirk when they finally did with very obvious reluctance. Adrien ignored their disapproving murmurs and gasps of shock.

He gently cupped Marinette’s freckled cheek, his thumb stroking her skin. _Let them stare_ , he thought to himself. He didn’t care for their words. But if any of them hurt Marinette, he wasn’t afraid to say so, despite the powerful urge to do just about anything to protect her from harms way. But Adrien had to be practical. He couldn’t hide Marientte from the more hurtful things that have to be dealt with. There were things that had to be done, that you just had to face sooner or later. Thus, the more sensible side of him supressed the possessive and somewhat territorial instinct to ensure Marinette was always by his side, both day and night, seeing to her safety and utmost happiness. But that didn’t mean Adrien couldn’t assure his girlfriend with honest words of comfort and certainty.

“No matter what others say, no matter what they think, no matter what you believe; _never_ ever think you’re not ‘right’ for me. Never think that you’re not good enough; that you have to be like someone else in order to make me happy. Never think that you can’t ever be with me because you think that I deserve better.” Adrien said softly, vivid green eyes staring into bright blue ones. They widened with shock, his worlds slowly sinking in. He promised her. He promised to give her everything and more. He promised to be honest with her.

“B-but I’m so …” She trailed off, her voice hesitant.

“So what?” He asked.

“Ordinary!” Marinette exclaimed weakly. “You – you’re so talented. Incredibly smart and the kindest person I’ve ever known. You’re such an amazing person. You’re so … You’re _perfect_ , inside and out. And then there’s me. Of all the other girls you could be with – why love me, the awkward klutz who makes a complete fool of herself most times?”

“Because you’re ‘not’ perfect. Because you’re you.”

“W-what?” She gasped.

“Marinette – I love you because you’re you. Don’t … please. Never change. I don’t ever want you to. You – you made me realise that the most beautiful person in the world doesn’t have to be perfect. You’ve reminded _me_ that I don’t have to be perfect. You’re so genuine, so earnest in what you believe in. There are some people that are just too wonderful, without fault, always out of reach.”

Adrien paused for a moment, sadly remembering his still strong infatuation for his Lady. He had yet to see her again, to tell her the truth, that he was finally moving on and that he was letting her go. Though painful guilt weighed heavily on his heart, his love for her seemed so long ago, so very distant. All he could see now was Marinette, beautifully imperfect Marinette.

“You, Marinette.” Adrien murmured, lowering his forehead to touch hers. “You’re here. You’re real, within reach. I – I can be with you, I can finally be with someone who can treat me like a human, like another ordinary person with faults, insecurities and fears. And you’re human like everyone else … yet you still manage to be incredible, without even trying, without being different. Marinette – you take my breath away. When I see you, I realise that no one needs to be perfect in order to be ‘beautiful’. All they need to be is kind, honest, loving, hardworking … and beautiful on the inside. You’re all of those things, Mari. And that’s why I fell in love with you, after all those years.”

“I … I …” Marinette stammered, the words caught in her throat. She couldn’t speak.

Adrien only smiled, gently capturing her lips with his. The kiss was brief, simple, warm, tender and full of certainty. He heard squeals, cries of shock and outrage from the people around him. But he didn’t care. No one could hurt this perfect moment. It was just the two of them. No one else mattered.

“Don’t worry about my fans. I’ll see to them. Any hate, any issues … you tell me. Don’t hide things from me. Even if you feel like you can deal with it on your own – we deal with things together from now on. All right? We’re in this together.”

Marinette nodded, her lovely freckled face a bright red but a shy smile tugged at her lips. “T-together. I like the sound of that.”

Adrien returned the smile. “Me too.”

“Just … um … I – can we keep the PDA to just hugs, hand holding and light kisses?” Marinette stammered hesitantly. “I mean … uh, I don’t want … TV … newspapers … the public … my p-parents … Alya!”

Adrien chuckled, kissing her forehead, a familiar gesture; one that he would never get tired of. “I promise, the only person who'llever get to see you like ‘that’ … is me.” A soft pink had tinted his cheeks.

“N-no one else?”

“No one else.”

He could practically feel Marinette blush even harder, the heated memories of that evening in the park making her skin hot with embarrassment and shy arousal.

“Um … if that’s the case … w-why did you – uh … the hickey?”

Adrien looked at her sheepishly, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

“Um, heat of the moment. I honestly wasn’t thinking straight. I couldn’t help it but …”

Adrien gently traced his fingertips across the soft black fabric of Marinette’s choker, feeling her pulse quicken, her breath hitching in her throat. Knowing he had marked her here, that he had kissed that unmarred silken column of flesh, the animal inside of him urging him to suck and bite her sweet skin until he had completely marked her as his own, sent a thrill deep inside of him. Lightly brushing his fingertips against the spot where he knew the flesh was still bruised and sensitive, he whispered softly against her ear.

“I guess I just wanted you to know that everything that you are; body, heart, soul, is all mine. And that I’m yours.”

 

\-----

 

When they finally made it to the photo shoot, Marinette saw that Alya was also there, vlogging away and interviewing. She couldn’t record and publish any footage of any costumes of the Adrien was modelling, not until the company published their photos first. She paused her recording seeing the duo and she gave them a wave. And Marinette wanted to shrink deeper into Adrien’s side when she saw Alya’s hazel spectacled eyes zoom in on her choker. Cr*p! So much for wanting to be inconspicuous. Marinette should have known trying to hide something as personal as a love bite was a fruitless venture, especially around someone as inquisitive and ruthless as Alya.

“Hey Marinette. I like the new accessory. Adrien give it to you?” Alya smirked, folding her arms against her chest. Although she expected Adrien to be too much of a gentleman to instigate anything other than a gentle kiss, she still loved getting a rise out of her friend.

“M-Made it myself actually. Wanted to try something new.” She shrugged.

“I was talking about the hickey underneath it actually.” Her best friend laughed.

“There’s nothing underneath this thing!” Marinette protested, looking to Adrien for help. He merely shrugged, an embarrassed smile gracing his face. Honestly, he had no idea how to hide the truth from Marinette’s best friend. Lying to Alya was like hiding a very tiny piece of hay in a needle stack. Trying to find the said needle was not only impossible; it was deadly.

“Sure. And you’re the seemingly innocent girl that knows how to give her soon to be ‘boyfriend’, embarrassing hard-ons during a quick pit-stop in the park after the first date.” Alya teased, waiting for her friend to start spewing another ‘angry’ as she preferred to call it.

Instead, Alya was met with abrupt silence and the sight of her two closest friends turning a bright tomato red. Both of them were practically squirming with embarrassment, the two of them standing so awkwardly against each other she could feel the tension, thick and heavy, between the two of them. Both seemed that they were on the verge of internally exploding from utmost mortification at any moment. She could almost picture the steam coming out of their ears. It didn’t take long to put her ‘joking comment’ and Marinette’s ‘supposed’ hickey together. And she gave the biggest and smuggest grin in the history of all best friend grins.

“Oh, Marinette. Oh, Mr. Agreste or should I say Mr. Rousseau? You two have a lot of explaining to do to Momma Alya after this shoot.”


	29. Dressed In Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

Marinette watched from the side, casually sketching and finishing off her designs in her portfolio. Her fabric samples lay quietly at her feet in her day bag. No doubt Tiki was using them as a mattress to take a nap on. She didn’t want to disturb either Adrien or Alya. Adrien was currently posing shots which would advertise Stüdaria’s many types of foot ware and dance shoes; from ballet flats, heeled shoes, black shoes, white, leather, cloth, silk … anything. But even the drawings on the white pages couldn’t distract her from the beautiful golden haired and evergreen-eyed man that seemed to shine behind the camera. With every white or yellow flash, with every direction the photographer gave him; Adrien was so at ease behind the camera. Every slight smile, every distant gaze, every smoulder, Marinette could only watch completely spellbound. Even in a simple loose fitting white shirt and dark dance pants he had the power to completely captivate everyone around him.

“Hey girl – thought you’d be interested in the collection Adrien’s wearing.” Alya sat down beside her as she handed her friend a juice box and what appeared to be a catalogue. “Maybe you’ll get some inspiration for your costume?”

“I actually have a design I want to make. Adrien already likes it but it never hurts to get some more inspiration. Though I really like the clothes he’s modelling already, even if it’s just practice attire.” Marinette flipped through the pages. The costumes were stunning; the collection had been titled Noir. Unlike the jewelled and elaborately beaded and brightly coloured fabrics she was used to seeing, these clothes were very simple, mostly dark, sombre colours ranging from blacks, dark greys, indigos, dark greens, reds and purples. Pants and leggings were dark, simply cut, with few embellishments or coloured accents, in order to accentuate the dancers form. As she flipped through the pages, studying each costume with careful detail, a certain black cat came into her mind, the streamline and form fitting clothing very reminiscent of her leather clad cat-eared friend. 

“These are really nice; really dark – elegant, not too flashy which is very surprising for most Latin Dance costumes. But I really like them.”

“Adrien’s gonna start modelling for those shots soon, once he finishes the foot ware. I swear the stuff he had to do, just to get the one shot.”

Marinette giggled. “The price of being a dancer now. Is there a female collection?”

Alya nodded, handing Marinette the second catalogue before she looked around the shoot, slightly concerned. “Yeah – the model for the shoot, was supposed to be here thirty minutes ago.”

“I’m sure she’ll turn up soon. Probably traffic – oh my goodness! These are so beautiful!” Marinette exclaimed, her eyes shining. After looking at the female dresses she could certainly feel the Noir aesthetic from each costume. They were more elaborate than the male costumes, decorated by intricate beading and tassels, most costumes reminiscent of the iconic ‘flapper dress’. The colour scheme also matched the male costumes, opting for darker more subdued tones. But careful cut outs, crop tops, bikini bottoms, low plunging necklines, backless tops and incredibly revealing fabrics, made each costume far more sensual to what was deemed socially appropriate for the 20’s and 30’s. They were intrinsically Latin. 

“Aren’t they? I particularly like the red one.” Alya said, pointing to one of the photographs. 

Marinette’s eyes went wide at the beautiful costume. Unlike the other dresses, this one was far brighter than the others. It was a red dress, lined with delicate black beading and lace, intricately sewed into elegant floral designs. The beading continued down the front of the dress, hanging off the costume in beautiful elegant strands. The dress only had one right full-length sleeve, the other held by an invisible strap. The skirt was also asymmetrical, falling elegantly down one side. Upon closer inspection Marinette realised that the side without the sleeve, had a prominent cut out, purposely leaving one side open. There was little to cover the side, only a slight piece of fabric, covered by more beading, which allowed the costume to stay in place. The costume was beautiful. It was sexy. It was absolutely stunning.

“Wow!” she breathed.

“That’s their newest design, and so far it’s been well received by early bird customers. The male costume that goes with this one is really nice too. The studio just needs to get a bit more exposure and that’s what Mr. Rousseau is for.”

“It’s – it’s amazing.”

Alya gave a shrug. “Hey – maybe you’ll get to wear something like this.”

“Are they gonna be shooting this one?”

“They have to.” Alya said. “This is their prize piece. That’s why everyone’s waiting anxiously for this female model to hurry up and get her ass here.”

\----- 

“What?!” Adrien’s agent screamed into the phone. Adrien winced a little. He could practically hear Plagg groan from his bag, the scream had clearly been enough to wake him from his catnap.

“What do you mean she can’t make it?!” 

Adrien decided to drone out the conversation. He was already dressed in costume, waiting for the actual reason he was at the shoot in the first place, to start. It was a simple costume, but he had been pleasantly surprised on how well it fit. The shirt was form fitting, made of a deep burgundy fabric, button down and with a crisp collar. Although cut in a way that revealed more of his bare chest that he was used to, he didn’t complain. Costumes were meant to be more revealing than ordinary clothes. His pants were standard black, a simple thin band of red running along the sides of both pant legs. Slipping on a pair of black canvas dance shoes he headed out of the tent that had been built for his privacy. Knowing his presence wasn’t going to make things better when it came to his agent, he decided to find Marinette and Alya.

Alya and Marinette were chatting amongst themselves at one of the lunch tables. Marinette had his back turned to him. Grinning with mischief, he snuck up behind her, winking at Alya and urging her not to react. She only smirked in response. It gave him just enough time to brush Marinette’s soft raven hair aside and gently place a kiss Marinette on the back of her neck. Marinette froze beneath him, uttering a surprised shriek, as she spun around.

“Hey Mari. You okay?” he asked, sitting down beside her.

“Don’t scare me like that!” she gasped, a bright blush on her face. 

“Sorry. The temptation was too great.” Adrien gave a tight grin.

“Y-you look um … very good. I mean – nice!” Marinette stammered. Why oh why did his shirt have to be so open?! It wasn’t as if she didn’t like seeing the clean unmarred planes of Adrien’s very toned and muscular chest but still.

“Okay. You two are just so cute. It’s nice to see the two of you finally get together.” Alya grinned, taking a bite out of her sandwich.

“Alya – not now! Please!” she groaned.

“Hey! My ultimate ship has finally sailed after six long years. Six! I deserve some retribution. How long have you two been dating?”

Marinette blushed but Adrien smiled softly, taking Marinette in his arms. “We’ve only had the one date, Alya. This is – pretty new to the both of us.”

“We haven’t even made anything official yet, considering … um, circumstances.” Marinette said.

Alya nodded in approval. “Understandable. So you’ve only had the one date? Really?”

“Well – it’s not like we don’t spend time with one another. I mean with the flood, and us being dance partners.” Marinette offered, snuggling into Adrien’s warmth. 

“Hmmm – the grinding does kinda help, I suppose.” Alya said thoughtfully, chewing her sandwich.

Marinette fixed her friend with a very hard glare. Adrien merely laughed.

“But really, Alya, Marinette and I want to take it slow. It … well, being the blind idiot that I was all those years ago, I want to treat Marinette right. I want to make sure everything turns out great for the both of us.”

Alya raised an eyebrow. “Slow? Then the hickey was, what? An accident? Hormones? I desperately need to release all that sexual tension after weeks of dirty dancing?”

“Alya!!!!!” Marientte shrieked face bright red with fury and embarrassment.

“Oh, are you having another ‘angry’, again?” Alya smirked.

“I – uh … well – that evening … it was – un-unexpected.” Adrien went a soft pink. 

“Pfft! Unexpected, my ass.” Alya smirked, ignoring her best friend’s snarls, before she continued nonchalantly. 

“But, here’s the thing – I’m serious Adrien, when I say this. Hurt Marinette in any shape or form and I won’t be afraid to shank you with the sharpest object I have on me at the time.” 

Marientte scowled at her best friend. Adrien winced. Alya’s words were already sharp enough and he had no doubt she certainly had more balls than he did to stick a blade in his gut, if it meant avenging her friend

Marinette opened her mouth, ready to utter a snarky retort, telling Alya to mind her own business. That was until a woman in her mid thirties, prim, proper, professional, her hair tied in a neat ponytail bustled into make shift lunch space. Marinette could only assume that this was Adrien’s modelling agent.

“Adrien! The model isn’t coming. Broken arm.” She said quickly, pacing up and down, clearly flustered.

“Vespa, please, calm down. What happened?” Adrien said; green eyes widening as he watched his agent walk back and forth briskly in an attempt to ease her frustrations.

“That model – she’s unable to make today’s shoot! She has a fractured arm and some broken ribs. Someone on a bicycle ran into her. And she’s unable to pose for any of the shots today.”

“Julia got hurt? That’s terrible news! I hope she’s alright, I need to call her.” Adrien said, very concerned.

“Terrible is right! We needed this gig. This shoot would have been a very good breakthrough for you and - ” she began.

Adrien swiftly cut her off. “Vespa!” he glared at her. “Someone’s gotten hurt and all you care about is about my bloody image?! Have some respect.”

Marinette and Alya could only watch as Adrien and his agent argue back and forth. Marinette didn’t like it. She hated arguments; they were ugly sights and they made her uncomfortable for being there, the tension in the air, heavy and unpleasant. As Ladybug her job was to solve them immediately, not watch them awkward and useless. She looked at Alya who gave her an anxious shrug. Should she say something? It honestly wasn’t her place to say anything. Granted she had no idea what was going on, much of the conversation going over her head as Adrien and Vespa’s voices began to rise in volume and anger. She could only wince at the scene, wanting nothing more to sink deeper into the seat, biting her lip to stop her from saying anything inappropriate. 

“Marinette could do it!” Alya said suddenly. All three of them turned to look at her.

“Alya – what on earth are you going on about?” Marinette wondered, frowning.

“Alya, that’s a great idea!” Adrien agreed, both relieved and excited.

“Absolutely not!” Vespa fumed.

Adrien merely turned towards his agent, giving her a hard glare. “What? Is Marinette not ‘up to par’ in the world of modelling, just like the last ones?”

“Everyone! Hold on!” Marinette jumped out of her chair, causing it to fall back and clatter to the ground. The abrupt and very loud noise caused all of them to stop arguing. Finally the headache that had begun to hurt her head began to recede.

“Okay. Firstly, let’s all take a deep breath for a moment. Pause. Kay? We’re all good. Secondly, what’s a good idea, Alya?”

But it was Adrien that answered her, taking both of her hands, as he looked up at her with intense evergreen eyes from his seat. “You’re a dancer, Marinette. You know all the poses, positions, footwork - you could take Julia’s place.”

\----- 

Marinette stared at her reflection in the small mirror, her face anxious. She had been swept away into the small make up truck; make up artists quickly applying dramatic red lipstick, black eyeliner and smoky eye shadow across her eyes. She wore no blush. Instead they had lightly dusted darker powder across her cheekbones to contour her face, keeping her skin soft, clean and pale. Her dark hair had also been curled softly, swept to the side of her face, tiny red and black roses entwined into her curls. She had insisted that she keep that black choker on. She wouldn’t let others see what truly lay beneath it. Marinette had to admit her make up was stunning. She would have looked attractive, beautiful even, if it hadn’t been for the nerves that had settled in the pit of her stomach, causing her entire face to look scared and weary.

Alya had helped her into her costume, squealing in delight when Marinette was finally dressed. To everyone’s surprise, mostly Vespa’s, the costume fit her perfectly, as if made for her. The costume not only fit her, it suited her, capturing her slender figure, the milky unmarred paleness of her skin a stunning contrast against the deep red and black fabric. She hadn’t even needed stockings. Instead, they had given her something else to wear, just above her left knee. With trembling hands and a mortified blush on her face, she secured the thin black velvet garter in order to match her choker. With the dress on, every step she took caused her beaded tassels to shimmy and clack against each another, making music wherever she went. With the costume’s teasing cut outs that slid all the way down the left side of her body and reached the top of her asymmetrical skirt, the sensual provocative glimpses of her upper torso and the exposure of her thighs made her feel exceptionally self-conscious. She wasn’t used to wearing so little. Even as Ladybug, her tight costume at least covered her entire body.

The Stüdaria representatives had given her dark red and black shoes for her to wear for the shoot. She stepped into them, attaching the dark silver clasps. Finally she stood up. 

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Marinette muttered. “I’m not a model! I shouldn’t be doing this, Alya.”

Alya gave her friend a comforting squeeze, hugging her close. “Girl, you look absolutely gorgeous. And it doesn’t matter that you’re not a model. You’re a dancer! You know how to dance, hold different positions, which is what the photographer wants. You’re definitely gonna ace this.”

“But, w-what if I mess up! This is Adrien’s job we’re talking about. I don’t know how to smile! I can’t pose in front of a camera like he can. I’m not model material.” Marinette began to babble and Alya gripped her shoulders tightly. She wasn’t going to let her best friend have another melt down. Not when Adrien needed them calm and ready for the shoot in a mere few minutes. 

“Mari – you’re gonna be fine. You’re doing this to help Adrien, remember. You got this. I believe in you.”

“I – I – ”

“Marinette. Adrien is gonna be out there with you. You’re not alone. You’re going to be fine.” Alya said slowly, her voice full of confidence. “Come on – lets get you to the shoot.”

Alya led her trembling friend outside the truck, carefully helping her down the small stairs. With slow hesitant steps, Marinette let Alya take her hand, guiding her towards Adrien who was already waiting for her with the other photographers.

“Marinette. You … you look beautiful in that.” Adrien murmured when he finally saw her, green eyes widening in awe. She truly did look beautiful. Adrien had never seen her wear red, the colour far more vibrant and provocative than her usual feminine pastels and pinks. But the colour suited her, combined with the sensual Latin style and her stunning make up, she truly was a vision to behold. Yet Marinette didn’t smile at the compliment. Nor did she blush in embarrassment. Instead, she looked nervous, frightened, blue eyes hesitant with uncertainty. Her shoulders were slumped; proving her lack on confidence and discomfort with the entire thing.

Alya gave Adrien a sad, apologetic look, nodding before she left the two of them. As she walked away, she watched Adrien take her best friend in his arms, his head slowly bending down to kiss her forehead. She watched Marinette snuggle and cling to him for comfort. He seemed to be saying something to her, watching his hand rub soothing circles on her back, but she couldn’t make it out. But whatever Adrien had said to her seemed to be enough for Marinette to calm somewhat, as she watched her friend slowly but thankfully relax. She gave a shy nod, smiling half-heartedly at her boyfriend who smiled back. Alya could only heave a sigh of relief. Adrien was a godsend if he knew how to help Marinette through her nerves and discomfort. And it somewhat surprised her. Only she had been able to do that. During difficult times when Marinette lacked the confidence for certain tasks, her parents had relied on Alya to set her friend straight, to give her the confidence to see things through, to believe in her. But Adrien had done so with a mere few words. Okay, Adrien was definitely in her good books. Perhaps she didn’t need to watch the boy as carefully as she thought. 

\----- 

“Adrien … I really don’t know how to pose, or smile. What if I’m told to do something and I can’t do it?” Marinette murmured, watching the camera crew prepare for their equipment.

Adrien had never seen Marinette so scared before. She truly hated being the centre of attention. And as such, she didn’t know how to deal with situations like this. She was overwhelmed, anxiety causing her heart to race in her chest and palms sweat.

“You don’t need to pose. All you need to do is dance. It’s all right, Marinette.” He assured her gently, stroking the side of her lovely freckled face.

“I – I don’t want to disappoint you. Or Stúdaria, or the studio. This is – ” Marinette trailed off, looking warily at the camera equipment, the lighting, the camera stands and all of the bustling people. No one was paying direct attention towards the duo that very moment; most were still busy with their current activities. 

Adrien frowned at Marinette’s discomfort and lack of confidence. He didn’t like this side of Marinette. She had to be happy, full of life, confident. And he made a promise to keep her safe, and to ensure that every waking moment she had in this life, would be spent on happy memories.

Adrien stepped away briefly, returning to Marinette with his I-phone and a small portable speaker no bigger than the palm of his hand. She looked at him, blue eyes curious and hesitant, watching him plug in his phone, and swipe across the keypad.

“I want you to ignore everyone else.” He said softly.

“Huh?”

“I want you to listen to the music. And look at me. We’re going to dance.”

Marinette’s eyes suddenly went fearful opening her mouth to protest but he gently pressed a finger to her lips. 

“Shhhh.” He hushed her, “Forget the camera men. Forget that we’re at a photo shoot. Forget all the people around us. It’s just me, and you. It’s just us, dancing. No one else. Understand? Listen to the music and dance with me, Marinette.”

Marinette lost herself in the sincerity of his voice, and the intensity of his evergreen eyes. The earnest warmth in every word he spoke, the softness of his gaze, made her heart ache once again. And she could only nod. 

Adrien didn’t smile in approval. Instead, he picked a song, placing the items to the side. And he took Marinette into his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be part of the previous chapter! Notice how my chapters are getting longer and longer in terms of content?! :P
> 
> Please see the links for the photo shoot costumes:
> 
> Adrien's Dance Shirt: http://www.aokdress.com/image/cache/data/item-img/men-s-male-man-short-sleeves-wine-red-silk-satin-stand-collar-professional-competition-exercises-ballroom-waltz-tango-latin-dance-shirts-tops-2627-600x600.jpg
> 
> Marinette's Dress (shade of red is meant to be a little darker and more subdued than the image but close enough): https://au.pinterest.com/pin/143270831877488993/
> 
> Marinette's Make Up: http://yve-style.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/asian-beauty.jpg


	30. The Photograph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This is my first Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction. This pairing is mostly Adrientte (Adrien x Marinette) but will potentially feature other pairings from the sides of the love square. 'Rating' may change to Mature/Explicit as the story progresses so sorry young-lings!

“Cuando la vi, supe que sería para mí”  
“No sé que hacer y si ella me dice que no”

Marinette heard the sound of music, the tap of the bongos, soft but certain. She blushed, looking down shyly at her feet. It was one of her favourite songs, very sensual and incredibly romantic. Though the steady rhythm immediately began to calm her down, the nerves wouldn’t dissipate. Could she really dance here? Of all places? What was Adrien hoping to accomplish by suddenly asking her to dance in the middle of a very prominent photo shoot? But when a hand gently brushed her waist, pulling her close she found that she could not resist. Already her body moved on instinct, hips hesitantly swaying with music, her heeled feet shuffling on the pavement.

“Con ella puedo reír soy él más feliz”  
“Del universo"

Adrien’s free hand gently reached to brush the side of Marinette’s warm blushing cheek, urging her to look at him. He stared into shy blue eyes that darkened into the most beautiful sapphire blue. Gently resting his forehead against hers, bringing her even closer to him, he then guided her to rest her hands on his shoulders, before he slipped his free hand beneath her arms, resting it between her shoulder blades.

“Cuando ella no está, no puedo pensar”  
“No me puedo concentrar”

Marinette gasped softly, when Adrien’s knee nudged between her own, seeking permission, waiting for her consent. As shy and as embarrassed as she was, she was unable to look away the evergreen eyes that captivated her so much. With only his beautiful face before her, she couldn’t see the world around her; she had almost quite forgotten where she was, and where she was standing. Almost.

“A-Adrien! The others! They’ll –”

Adrien hushed her, his nose brushing against her as the warmth of his voice blew across her lips. They didn’t need to speak now. He urged her to forget.

Taking a deep breath she trusted Adrien to move, hesitantly opening her legs slightly, letting him into her space as he pressed his warmth against her. Guiding her hips they slowly swayed, hips rolling as they stepped back and forth from side-to-side. They moved simply at first, Adrien leading Marinette into a steady but sensual rhythm as they danced against one another. The slight pressure of Adrien’s leg urged Marinette to move and they spun quickly. Vivid green eyes never left dark sapphire blue, as the slow music lulled them into a tender and intimate dance.

“With her my heart starts to race”  
“My head is sayin’ cut to the chase”

Adrien slowly guided Marinette into a dip, a hand gently gripping her thigh and bringing it around his hip. Marinette found herself closing her eyes, the gentle music calming her she let go of his shoulders, trusting him to hold her completely. Throwing her head back, arching against him, she stretched out her arm reaching above her head as she styled her fingers in a delicate hold. Rolling her entire body around once, he slowly brought her back up to him, never removing his thigh from in between hers, as he encouraged her to sway with him and to rock against his pelvis.

“And so, no matter what it takes”  
“I gotta make the girl my girlfriend”

He heard her sigh as he cradled her head close to him, the warmth and the connection strangely comforting and familiar despite the intimate and seductive style of their dancing. Marinette began to feel beautiful again, that she was wanted and adored by the man she had dreamed of loving her since she was fifteen. Adrien began to feel safe, needed, that the girl that moved so perfectly against his own body trusted him and only him. He couldn’t help but let his hand trace along Marinette’s left side, fingertips brushing over the expanse of milky soft skin that had been left teasingly exposed by her costume. How could he not touch her, the sight allowing him a glimpse of what lay hidden beneath the rest of the dark red fabric. The girl in his arms blushed bright pink, her eyes fluttering closed once again from his gentle touch. He didn’t need to ask permission to continue, pressing herself closer to him, urging him to explore her body, the sensation so wonderful; the touch so intimate. Memories of that one evening in the park filled her head and she shivered with desire. He could feel her tremble in his arms, as he traced down her side, all the way down to her bare thigh. Adrien swore he heard her whimper, soft and silent against the crook of his neck. And the fire within him, which burned for her, grew hotter and more passionate.

“Hoy el corazón me va a estallar”  
“Y no me atrevo a entrarla. ¿Qué dirá?”  
“Pero no importa, lo voy a lograr”  
“Sé que un día mi chica ella sera”

Marinette found herself spinning until she was firmly but carefully pulled to Adrien’s side. Facing away from one another Marinette frowned for a moment until she found herself falling. She gasped, suddenly flushed against Adrien’s left side, her right side leaning against his for support. She cocked her leg up, pointing her heeled foot, as he dipped lower to the floor. He gently pulled her arm, encouraging her to extend her her hand outwards as he held on to her.

“Look at me.” He murmured. She did. His green eyes were dark with desire and longing.

“A-Adrien.” She whispered, feeling him lightly move his hip against hers, guiding her to stand back up again as he spun her quickly.

“Traté de huirla traté de no mirarla más  
“Yo me acerqué y sorpresa, no podía hablar”

Adrien carefully pushed her back, hitching her left leg behind him. Green eyes searched hers, as he stroked the back of her calf. She only nodded shyly, her raven hair blowing softly against her face from the cool wind. Nodding in understanding, he wrapped an arm around her waist as he gently guided her leg up higher and higher. Marinette trusted Adrien with all her heart. She believed in him. She loved him.

“Con ella puedo reír soy él más feliz del universe”  
“Cuando ella no está, no puedo pensar”  
“No me puedo concentrar”

He felt her leg muscles tighten as she stretched her limb out, one hand poised at her hip, whilst the other wrapped around his neck, pulling her close to him. With her ankle and calf resting against his forearm, he carefully held her leg, and moved to the side, putting his weight on one foot, pulling her into a perfect split. She sighed against his lips, her nose nuzzling against his own. She looked shyly at him, the hand that had been at her hip reaching up to gently brush the golden hair from his face, her fingertips stroking his cheek in the process. He gave her a tender and loving smile.

“With her my heart starts to race”  
“My head is sayin' cut to the chase”  
“And so, no matter what it takes”  
“I gotta make the girl my girlfriend”

There was something about their love of Bachata that seemed to make it so much tender and far more romantic than it had before. Unlike the other times, there was no need to pretend any more. What they felt, the love, the commitment, the trust, their heated desire for each other, all of it was real now. Confusing words, hidden truths were not needed. Every step, spin, dip, and arch of her back, every sway of Marinette’s body, ever roll of Adrien’s hips; their dance was a physical expression of their love, need and utter devotion. And both were completely lost in each other’s love. As the music continued, they danced. And the more they danced, the more they lost themselves in each other’s embrace.

“Hoy el corazón me va a estallar”  
“Y no me atrevo a entrarla. ¿Qué dirá?”  
“Pero no importa, lo voy a lograr”  
“Sé que un día mi chica ella sera”

The world around them had been completely forgotten. There was just Adrien and Marinette, and the sweet steady music that reminded them of a heartbeat. All the while, cameras clicked, lights flashed, a crowd had gathered, people were filming. Everyone was silent, completely spellbound by the couple that danced so lovingly with each other.

After an eternity of sensual movement, the song slowly came to a close. Adrien lead Marinette into a final dip. She was smiling; she looked so beautiful in his arms, so utterly perfect as the final notes echoed into the quiet air. And he couldn’t help but give a dazzling smile. He was so in love with this woman.

But when the sound of clapping, the sound of cheers and whistles suddenly broke their own silent and perfect world, Marinette snapped up in shock, the colour of her face matching her dress. Gazing at the sudden audience that surrounded them, Marinette could only groan, burying her face in her hands as realisation began to dawn on her. Their intimate dancing, their perfect and very private moment, hadn’t been as private as she thought. She had completely forgotten where she was and where she stood.

But Adrien only pulled her close to him, arms wrapping around her slender waist as he held her close to him. He saw Alya stand to one side. She had filmed the entire thing and was grinning ear to ear. With a sheepish laugh, he gave her a wink, which she returned.

“Well – this is a little awkward.” Adrien chuckled against soft raven curls, now slightly messy from what had just conspired between the two of them.

Marinette said nothing as she buried herself deeper into Adrien’s chest, utterly mortified.

\-----

After their impromptu performance, Marinette found herself being pulled in different directions, going through costume after costume. Overwhelmed from the sudden popular comments for her to continue modelling for the rest of the shoot, she could only nod her head in response as people told her what to do. She signed papers of approval and non-disclosure forms, had her make up reapplied so many times she began to forget her own face.

Thankfully, Adrien had been right. There really was no need to pose per say, not as professionally as she would have expected. Photographers needed the shots to look real. They had to capture the intimacy and the connection of their models. They needed to see her dance. And with Adrien to guide her, dancing was second nature to her, almost as familiar as breathing.

Her last costume had been a simple black number: a two-piece, the crop top, plain and unadorned, with a plunging sweetheart neckline, with long sleeves. The skirt was long, flaring out to the side, with a long slit that went all the way up her left thigh, reaching her waist, revealing her bikini bottoms. The outfit was elegant if not somewhat openly inviting. Marinette wouldn’t have been as embarrassed by such blatant exposure of bare flesh, had it not been for the fact the skirt was made of soft floral patterned and semi-transparent lace. They had given her shoes of vivid scarlet and black sparkly silk, a contrast to her dark outfit. Adrien also wore the a similar colour scheme, his golden hair lightly tousled for the final part of the shoot.

Unlike the other shots, the photographer had wanted them to be more ‘intimate’ with one another. Marinette had struggled not to blush when the photographer explained that the final shots had to showcase the sensuality of the costumes. Thus hugging and kissing shots were a vital part of the shoot and to be expected. Marinette had been able to kiss Adrien on the lips. But having to replicate some of the steamier positions that they had done that one evening in the park had the once pale girl in a constant shy, embarrassed and somewhat aroused blush. The fact that some of these photographs were going to be published and revealed publically, didn’t ease her anxiety and mortification. But she had to help Adrien. This was his livelihood after all she was prepared to face whatever struggle she was given, regardless of how embarrassing it was.

During the rest of the shoot, both of them were constantly breathless from kissing so much, faces flushed as they glanced at one another shyly in between photos. Alya meanwhile, vlogged, a permanent satisfied smirk plastered on her face, as she watched her two adorably awkward children ‘get it on’, with the encouragement of the photographer.

With Adrien stepping close into her space as she was pressed tightly against a wall, the thigh with the garter belt, hitched around his hip, she could only pray she her heart didn’t stop from hyperventilation, as Adrien kissed her fiercely. By the end of the shoot, Marinette’s lips were so sore and bruised she wandered if it was entirely possible to be physically exhausted from kissing Adrien (the most beautiful and most swoon worthy man in all of France), so much? And it wasn’t just her mouth that Adrien kissed. Adrien had kissed her forehead, her hair, her temple and cheeks. He had peppered kisses along the expanse of her neck, her shoulders and collarbones.

For one shot, the photographer had even asked the green eyed and golden haired model to kiss Marinette’s left leg, in order to showcase her red shoes from her leg down. Marinette could only watch shyly, hiding her face behind her hands in the hopes to hide how nervous and self-conscious she was. Adrien knelt in in front of her whilst the cameras clicked, holding her left foot up, to advertise her foot ware. All the while his nose skimmed across her calf, travelling up her knee and leaving a soft trail of gentle kisses that burned her skin. Marinette could only tremble, biting her lip as she felt him kiss her black velvet garter, evergreen eyes dark with longing and full promise.

But when the photographer had asked Adrien to brush his lips just above the curve of her breasts, his head held close to her chest by her hands, whilst her own head rested against the wall as she gasped … Marinette had almost fainted. Even Adrien had the grace to look agitated and nervous, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head with his hand. It was one thing having to kneel in front of his girlfriend, then kiss and adore one of Marinette’s beautifully, alluring thighs, but to capture him kissing such a private and intimate place? The shots so far had been somewhat tasteful, if highly seductive but Adrien was beginning to wonder if the photographer just liked seeing Marinette in such a stunning, tantelising and very desirable state. And the very idea made him growl with annoyance. Adrien had always been the jealous type and his girlfriend had yet to see that side of him. Thankfully, Marinette was far too embarrassed to process the gravity of his sudden very possessive and territorial urge to ensure that the photographer and all of the camera crew knew that Marientte belonged to him. And with the final shot, he was determined to remind all of them.

The shot had been a close up, capturing the very sensual moment between the two of them. When they were finally done, Marinette hadn’t wanted to look at the preview photograph in the camera’s screen. The pose had lasted only a few moments yet she was too ashamed to even look at herself. But when Adrien urged her to look, his voice surprised and somewhat shy, curiosity finally got the better of her.

And she found herself gasping. The photograph was beautiful, a close up of their torsos and of Adrien’s face. Only Marinette’s lips, nose and freckled cheeks were shown, her eyes had been cut off from the shot. Her red lips were parted slightly, as if gasping from the moment Adrien’s lips made contact with her skin. Marinette couldn’t deny that the photograph was incredibly provocative. Adrien was pressed against her, hands wrapped tightly around her waist, fearing that if he let go, she would disappear. The very act of Adrien’s mouth exploring and adoring the evident swell of her breasts was far too intimate for her liking. Marinette could feared, what her parents and her friends would think if the photo made it into the final publishing cut.

But the longer she stared at the photograph, the more she realised how sensually romantic their position was. It was as if someone had captured Adrien and herself in the midst of making love, or just about to. There was a deep longing in Adrien’s half-lidded evergreen eyes, as he kissed her, his lips positioned exactly where her heart was. It was as if he was searching for her heartbeat, remembering the sound of the steady pulse that had been taken away from him for so long. There was a deep and dark yearning to be close to her that need full of trust, devotion and desire to hear the sound, and to match hers with his, own heartbeat. It made the act incredibly tender and his desperate desire to hold her in his arms and adore her, somewhat sad. With her hands cradling his head, her fingers weaving through his golden strands, she could feel his need be close to her; the powerful and passionate connection between the two of them gentle and amorous. She was assuring him that he was with her once again that nothing would ever come between them, as she let him remember her. He had nothing to fear; she was here with him, he wouldn't ever be alone again. This was a picture of two people who couldn't live without one another, the longing to feel, hold, and connect with each other, heart, body and soul, so overwhelming and completely transparent. It was a photograph of two people who were completely in love.

“Wow.” She said softly.

Adrien said nothing. Instead he slipped a hand into hers. She felt him give her hand a soft squeeze. Marinette looked up at him, suddenly shy when she was met with the same heated gaze that glowed with tender warmth. His beautiful face stared fondly at her.

“That’s a wrap you two. Thanks again, Marinette, for all your help today.” The photographer said, shaking her hand.

“Uh – sure, glad to be of help.”

“Shall we?” He asked her quietly. Alya was waiting for them to finish, curious and eager.

Marinette nodded as he led her away, their hands entwined as they walked back to their friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the song that they were dancing to, it's a Bachata Remix of the original: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=502P5fdOz6g
> 
> And here are some reference pics for some of the poses that they did for the photo shoot (please see links). There are a lot but then again - this is a photo shoot chapter so reference helps! <3 
> 
> Some of these reference pics are of me and a friend of mine, who I regularly Latin Dance with during 'social' nights. We both cosplayed Ladybug and Chat Noir for Matsuri Sydney 2016. Please no hate! I only dance socially; my friend is the one whose got the mad skills! He performs and does choreography on a regular basis (like regular 4+ hours of practice a day, after he finishes work). I just struggle to make it look like I know what I'm doing half of the time. 
> 
> Images of ME!!!  
> Image 1: http://jadestonedrawings.deviantart.com/art/LadyNoir-1-650960471  
> Image 2: http://jadestonedrawings.deviantart.com/art/LadyNoir-2-650960671  
> Image 3: http://jadestonedrawings.deviantart.com/art/LadyNoir-3-650961076  
> Image 4: http://jadestonedrawings.deviantart.com/art/LadyNoir-4-650961598  
> Image 5: http://jadestonedrawings.deviantart.com/art/LadyNoir-5-650961955  
> Image 6: http://jadestonedrawings.deviantart.com/art/LadyNoir-6-650962850
> 
> Other Images:  
> Image 1: https://hookedonsalsa.files.wordpress.com/2013/03/6ec3376d84b23b8d9020065aa21b62dc.jpg  
> Image 2: http://www.salsaybachata.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/05/bachata-sensual.png  
> Image 3: http://danzalia.com/images/GaleriaImagenes/SalsaLinea-Bachata/BACHATA-3.jpg  
> Image 4: http://www.downvids.net/video/bestimages/img-sensual-bachata-447.jpg  
> Image 5: http://pbs.twimg.com/media/CPYcyb9WUAAkHAV.jpg:large  
> Image 6: http://bachata-festival.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/Danie-Desiree-1.png  
> Image 7: https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/ff/4e/1f/ff4e1fb9b6e6774de3117b9ff626f355.jpg  
> Image 8: https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/5c/84/c4/5c84c401be55c5bee8a298574b82023e.jpg  
> Image 9: https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/f0/bd/ba/f0bdbad59fb62eab680a2bd3802e6928.jpg  
> Image 10: https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/db/66/e5/db66e50be301abd861faca69682319d8.jpg  
> Image 11: http://photos1.meetupstatic.com/photos/event/3/e/600_225480062.jpeg  
> Image 12: https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/87/b5/3a/87b53ae9ae96e74035b03bfa9b08d5f5.jpg ... this is one I really to try! Wonder if I'm that flexible?


	31. Thirsty Adrienette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> \--- 
> 
> This is a SMUT chapter guys!!! Finally! These two are getting somewhere. So that means the rating for this fanfiction has official changed to MATURE. That means more adult appropriate scenes, eventual sex scenes, and I'm no longer going to censor any swearing. Sorry young-lings!

Both of them left the shoot holding hands, shy and embarrassed as they headed back to the Dupain-Cheng bakery. Her parents were out at the bank, settling their payments and other loans. They wouldn’t be back until the next morning or late afternoon, having to deal with other family matters several hours out of the city. Rather than having to trek all the way back in the middle of the night, Tom had suggested that they visit his sister, spending the night at her house. Marinette was left all on her own and her parents had said she could have a friend over to keep her company, though they hadn’t been specific on who she could bring up to her bedroom. Tiki had been tucked away in her pink purse, which she left on the kitchen counter. She couldn’t risk Adrien finding her. Adrien on the other hand had put his own sleeping kwami in his shoulder bag, surrounded by a hoard of Camembert to keep him quiet.

The two of them were sitting in Marinette’s very pink room as she showed him different fabrics, having started on their costumes. He felt each sample carefully, feeling the material in his hands, giving her his opinion on each one. Gathering the information she needed she set to work, drawing out the correct patterns on large pieces of paper. She worked on the floor whilst Adrien sat at her desk, working on his physics presentation and watching her design. Both of them worked in a somewhat comfortable silence, drained after today’s shoot. The day hadn’t quite gone as planned, they hadn’t been able to practice their routine during any of Adrien’s breaks, with Marinette having to replace the model that had put the shoot behind schedule. Not that either of them were complaining. They weren’t unhappy with how things had turned out. From the photographs Marinette had seen, whether it was just her or of the two of them dancing together, she had been very pleased with them.

It was just things had changed between them. Dancing with him during the shoot had been one thing. Being asked to pose in far more intimate and carnal positions whilst others watched and captured each and every moment had been something else entirely. Marinette had tried to rationalise that it had just been for a shoot. And as boyfriend and girlfriend, there really was no need for her discomfort or embarrassment despite on how forward and provocative the situation had been. Granted, she was used to him touching her thigh, holding her waist, trailing his fingertips down her side, and weaving his fingers in her hair, whenever they danced. It was the style that they did. Bachata was simply a very sensual dance. But as Marinette struggled to concentrate on her work, she couldn’t stop wondering why Adrien’s touches had felt so different to the times when they hadn’t been dancing. She should have been fine, she was supposed to be used to it. It was like dancing, except standing still, her back pressed against a wall, as careful hands and tender lips adored her more private hidden places she had yet to really show him. Oh, who was she kidding? She couldn’t deny what she had felt during those poses. What she had felt when he had touched her – not only had the way he touched her felt different, her feelings had also changed.

Marinette glanced at the man sitting at her desk, as he worked. This was the same beautiful man that had pressed soft kisses up the length of her leg, adoring her skin all the way until he had reached the top of her thigh. This was a the same man whose vivid green eyes darkened with a carnal yearning that had sent her heart hammering in her chest, and a delicious warmth to bloom in her lower abdomen. Her skin burned beneath his tender touch, her body trembling with need, as she had shyly watched him slowly brush his warm lips just above her garter belt. And he had practically heard how he had affected her when he kissed the spot just above the soft swell of her breasts, his breath ticking her sensitive skin and no doubt feeling her quickening heartbeat. She wondered if the desire she had felt for him at that very moment, been even stronger and more binding, had Adrien dared to kiss her a little lower.

Marinette blushed bright pink, quickly resuming her work. She couldn’t feel hot and bothered now. She had work to do. And explaining the sudden flush of arousal on her face wasn’t something she wanted to end the day on.

“Um … I – I hope I helped, today.” Marinette said softly, trying to find away to ease the silence.

Adrien turned towards her slightly. “You were a huge help. Thank you so much for stepping in, today. I’ve talked to the necessary people, you’ll be compensated for doing the entire shoot.”

“O-oh! That – that’s unnecessary.”

Adrien shook his head. “You replaced today’s model. Your photos are going to be published. It’s only fair you get paid.”

Marinette was surprised by the gesture, but it didn’t change the fact she was grateful. She would give the money to her parents, to help pay for some of the bakery’s damages. “Thank you. That’s really unexpected but very generous.”

They lapsed back into an awkward silence. Marinette had put down her pencil, unable to work anymore. Adrien had stopped typing on his laptop as he quickly saved his work, unable to find the courage to say what desperately needed to be said.

“I wanted – ”

“About today – ”

They both began hesitantly, immediately stopping when they heard each other speak, blushes dusting across their faces.

“You first, Adrien – ”

“No, you can go first – ”

The awkward silence became even more uncomfortable the moment they stopped speaking, waiting for the other to go first.

Finally Adrien took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair.

“S-sorry about the photographers. It was a little, um … intense between us.” Adrien began hesitantly, as he stared at the girl who sat quietly on the backs of her calves and feet, her hands rubbing together anxiously in her lap.

“No! It – it wasn’t a p-problem.” Marinette said quickly. She was being honest. It really hadn’t been a problem. It was just …

“What we had to do, I … it’s not exactly the greatest way to start a ‘slow’ relationship.” Adrien continued, green eyes concerned. “I said I wanted to do right by you. And I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable today.”

Marinette cocked her head to the side. “Why do you think I was uncomfortable?” she asked, confused.

“You were clearly nervous by how intimate some of those poses were. I could tell.” Adrien’s eyes frowned as he remembered Marinette’s previous anxiety. “I – I had to touch you in places that I – didn’t have permission to. I’m sorry.”

“B-but you did.”

“Only because the photographer told you to do it. I wanted your consent, not his.”

“A-are you worried that you were being too forward? That we might be rushing things?”

“Not we, Marinette. Me. The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.”

Marinette went quiet for a second. From the way she was biting her lip, Adrien could see that she was struggling to find the right words. Finally she sighed, carefully packing her patterns and laying them gently on her pink chaise. She then patted the ground next to her, urging Adrien to sit down beside her.

“I – To be honest Adrien, I only wish what we did today … had been in private.” she said very softly, as he sat down next to her, crossing his legs.

“Me too.” he murmured, taking her hand. She held his hand tightly, never wanting to let go.

“But – but I don’t regret the shoot. I don’t regret what we had to do. I may still be a little embarrassed doing such … ‘provocative’ things in public. But I don’t regret what I did today. I wasn’t disgusted by the things you had to do to me.”

Adrien heaved a sigh of release and he finally looked at her. “Really?”

Her freckled face was shy as she nodded her head. “R-really. I don’t.”

“Even me having to kiss your leg like that? Having to kiss … um, well … your chest.”

Marinette blushed a bright pink, her blue eyes very self-conscious. “I … I didn’t mind that you kissed me there."

"Y-you didn't."

Marinette shook her head, her voice timid when she finally spoke.

"I … l-liked it.”

She turned away from him, unable to look at him directly in the eye. She had practically confessed that she had been somewhat been turned on by Adrien kissing and touching more private parts of her body.

“Oh.” Adrien replied.

Once again, silence followed.

Marinette brought her knees up towards her body, tucking them under her chin. Wonderful. She had made the situation even more awkward then it actually was. It wasn’t as if they were physically doing anything; nothing had been too graphic, the poses had been intimate but tasteful and appropriate to be published, as well as incredibly sensual and romantic. Marinette was only trying to be honest but being the idiot that she was, her decision to confess how she felt when he had touched her had only made things worse. Cringing at her stupidity she buried her face against her knees, wishing the floor would swallow her whole. She let her dark hair fall around her face and around her neck, hiding her from the rest of the world. She wasn’t good at the whole girlfriend thing. She had no idea what to say, what to do, let alone what to think. Adrien’s last response pretty much solidified that.

“God. I shouldn’t have told you that. I’m sorry, Adrien.” she muttered.

But it was then she felt the soft touch of a pair of warm lips, gently brushing the back of her neck. Uttering a gasp, she looked up, only to tremble when kisses were peppered lightly across the back of her throat.

“A-Adrien,” she murmured when a hand gently brushed against her face, tilting her head so he could kiss the side of her throat, travelling down her bare shoulder. His breath felt soft against her skin and she felt a familiar warmth, bloom deep within her lower abdomen.

“I also liked kissing you in … other places.” he whispered against her skin. He watched Marinette blush even harder, her blue eyes darkening to lapis lazuli; they were shy, uncertain and full of need. Gently brushing the hair away from her face, he kissed her warm cheek.

“W-would you like me to kiss you again?” he asked his voice low and husky. It almost sounded like a purr. And Marinette shivered. How could his voice sound so ... enticing? Adrien didn’t just want to kiss her lips. He wanted to kiss her; all of her.

She didn’t look at him. She was far too embarrassed, so he gently urged her to look at him with the crook oh his finger under her chin. She looked so lovely, so self-conscious and full of hesitant unfamiliar desire that he felt his heart beat quicken, and arousal to stir deep in his loins.

Marinette nodded her head. That was all the permission he needed. Adrien closed the distance kissing her deeply, just like they had at the photo shoot. Only this time, there was no one to interrupt something that was meant just for them; this private, very intimate and perfect moment was not to be spoiled by strangers.

She sighed softly into the kiss, feeling his tongue explore her mouth, searching. The movement was so simple and so easy. Moaning, she wrapped her arms around his neck, her hands weaving in his soft golden hair, like she did before, as both of them drank their soft sighs and breathless pants, tongues stroking against each other tender and shy.

Noses rubbed against each other, foreheads touched, eyelids fluttered shut as they lost themselves in the kiss. Unknowingly she found herself moving, her body gravitating towards his as he moved into her space and soon she was kneeling. Her body was flushed against his as he wrapped his arms around her slender waist, pulling her close. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her hands weaving into soft golden locks. A hand stroked the smooth warm skin of her back, daring, inching higher and higher. She whimpered, urging him on. She wanted this, heated desire suddenly consuming her entire being, which sent her mind into a lust-frazzled mess. Adrien’s fingertips finally found the courage to slowly travel up her back, pushing past the fabric of her pink tank top and slipping under her bra strap. Marinette trembled in his arms, pressing even closer to him, until their fronts were completely touching each other. She could feel the warm strong planes of his body beneath his clothes, his own arousal tenting the front of his pants.

Shyly, she rocked her hips forward a little, the movement causing just enough friction to stroke across his pelvis. Adrien pulled away from the kiss in a surprised groan, evergreen eyes hazy with lust. He buried his face in Marinette’s neck as he panted heavily, before kissing and sucking the silken pale flesh. Hesitantly, she did it again, only this time with more insistence. She felt the beautiful man shudder against her, his hips meeting hers for more contact, as he gasped softly against her skin.

“M-Mari! Fuck!” he swore, moaning into the crook of her neck as she cradled his head. Again she rocked her hips towards his pelvis, back and forth, mirroring the slow familiar movement they always did when they danced. It gave him the sweet burning delicious friction his lower half desperately craved, pleasure blooming hot and spreading slowly throughout his body. Adrien suddenly realised that Marinette was well aware of the powerful effect she had on him; she knew that she could bring him to such a heavy state of hazy arousal, and so quickly, and she knew her how her hesitant yet wonderful touch did nothing to help his fragile self-control.

“You – you feel so warm. You’re so hard.” she whispered, stroking the ends of his hair that brushed the back of his neck.

Adrien didn’t answer her. Instead, she found herself being lowered to the carpeted floor. Before her head hit the ground, Adrien had reached for one of the pillows on the chaise, placing it behind Marinette’s head. He placed her carefully onto the floor, Adrien lying on top of her as he moved above her, his body parallel to hers. One of his thighs slipped slowly in between her own, as he rested on his forearms, which were either side of Marinette’s head.

Marinette’s face was flushed with arousal, her beautiful freckled face shy but full of longing for the man above her. Her luscious pink lips were swollen from their heated kisses, lapis lazuli eyes dark and cloudy. Her silken raven hair flew out behind her, like a beautiful dark halo. The choker on her slender pale neck had dislodged, revealing the bruised and still very tender love bite he had marked her with, from that evening in the park. Her tank top was also dishevelled, the straps hanging off her shoulders, leaving them bare, the lower half of her top scrunched up to reveal the soft smooth planes of her abdomen. It gave Adrien teasing glimpses of the soft beautiful curve of the underside of her breasts. She looked so beautiful, so sexy, so perfect. And she was his. Marinette was his.

Marinette was panting beneath him, breathless, as she stared up at him. With unspoken agreement he moved, brushing his lips against her delicate collarbones, kissing her lower. Hands wandered, gently stroking her sides as he hesitantly began to explore the uncharted territories of Marinette’s body. She felt so soft, so smooth and so lovely beneath his fingertips. He felt hands cradle his head, shyly guiding him lower and granting him permission.

“A-are you sure?” Adrien asked, voice ragged but soft, moving to look at her. He didn’t want to frighten Marinette. What they were doing was very fast, they were moving to quickly. The last thing he wanted was to hurt her and to make her feel unsafe whilst in his arms. He honestly hadn’t expected for things to go this far. Nothing had been planned. Both of them had agreed to take things slow. And despite what his body and his heart yearned for, his head screamed at him to stop and think rationally, just for a moment. Marinette’s comfort and her happiness always came first. He wouldn't go any further if she asked him.

Marinette gave a shy nod. “It’s okay.”

Taking one of the hands that were still too hesitant and nervous to touch her intimately, she placed it to her chest above her heart. Beneath the fabric of her top, he could feel her aching heartbeat in between the valley of her breasts, throbbing in her chest from want, arousal and adoration for him. And his own heart began to mirror hers. Very slowly, he traced his hand to the side, cupping the soft curve of one of her breasts, touching her intimately for the first time.

Marinette gasped, eyes fluttering closed as she arched against him, arms pulling him closer, as they trailed down the strong muscles of his back.

Adrien marvelled at how beautiful she felt. She fit perfectly in his hand, fingertips curious and gentle as he watched her with dark green eyes, anticipating her reactions. As much as he wanted to push the fabric away to discover what lay underneath it, he knew he couldn’t. At least not yet. What they were dong now had pushed far beyond the parameters of what they had agreed. He couldn’t take that away from her. Not yet. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t touch her through the fabric of her clothes. Moving a little, he kissed the soft rise of her right breast, and she quivered under his touch, uttering a sweet moan from her lips.

Marinette felt so hot, she was practically burning with desire. No man had ever touched her like this. Granted she wasn’t a complete stranger to her body’s desires, having explored herself a little as she grew into her late teens. She was a woman after all, with needs and in the privacy and comfort of her bed at night; she was safe to discover more about herself. But never had someone else touched her like this. And Adrien. Adrien, the man she had loved from afar for so long, was kissing her so intimately; his hands exploring parts of her she had yet find courage to show him. Her heart pounded frantically in her chest, her mind a complete mess, rational thinking had completely vanished. But she wasn’t scared. She was nervous. She was shy but she wasn’t frightened. She felt warm and safe. She was safe with Adrien. He wouldn't hurt her. She knew that. Adrien loved her. He was loving her right now, her, physically adoring her body whilst her heart ached for him.

And she could feel. She could feel Adrien’s hands and lips tenderly touching her clothed covered breasts. She could feel the soft golden locks of his hair as she cradled him close to her. She could feel the burn of pleasure bloom between her thighs, as she gasped and moaned against him. She could feel her pounding heart refusing to calm in her chest, whenever Adrien pressed a kiss against her heat beat. She could feel the chiselled planes of his body; warm and fitting perfectly against her own soft curves. They rocked against one another, their lower halves creating such delicious pleasure-numbing friction that it made her mind go blank. She could feel his hot hard need straining in his jeans whenever he thrust against her thigh. Adrien’s soft groans and pleased sighs were the sweetest sounds she had ever heard. And she could feel her own arousal, pooling warm, soft and wet in her panties, her aching core throbbing with need.

“A-Adrien! I – I want – “ she pleaded him, rocking her hips against his, desperately, the warm excitement deep in her lower abdomen burning hotter an hotter. Ever thrust of their hips had pushed her skirt upwards, slowly revealing the creamy expanse of her thighs.

“I – I can’t – ah! Not – not yet.” Adrien moaned, looking mournfully at her. He couldn’t touch her there. He just couldn't. It wasn’t right. It wasn't as if he didn't want to but he had been raised a gentleman ... a gentleman whose standards and restraint were quickly slipping from his fingers with every satisfying sound that she made. But it was much too soon. Not after such a short time. It was only yesterday he had kissed her in the park.

But Marinette pulled at his now very creased button down shirt, the buttons popping open and flying off elsewhere.

“P-Please! I just need – ”

Marinette was so helplessly aroused and she looked so beautiful and so sexually enticing that his self control finally broke. He just couldn't fight anymore. He finally gave in. Gritting his teeth, he shuddered against her.

“H-how about a compromise?” he whispered huskily, against her lips, his warm large hand stroking her soft cheek as he stared longingly into her eyes.

“Compromise?” she asked shyly.

Adrien moved a little, letting his free hand, wander. He slowly stroked down the side of her body, fingertips remembering the gentle curves of her body, the swell of her breasts, her slender waist, the delicate rise of her hip bone, until he reached her bare thigh. Her breath hitched in her throat as she waited, trembling in anticipation as he moved her skit, inching it above her thighs. Adrien glanced down and groaned, catching a glimpse of her soft white panties covered by the layers of her rolled up skirt. He shuddered at the sight, his arousal so hard that it pained him to be in the tight material of his jeans.

Hesitantly, Adrien moved his hips towards hers. And Marinette uttered a cry, her eyes squeezing shut, realising what Adrien was attempting to do. Without restraint, she began to greedily seek the friction her lower half craved, her hips rocking and rolling in sync with his. With one of his thighs pressed right against her aching core, she could feel everything through the thin wet cotton. The course jean material began to rub and caress her most intimate part, soft mewls and moans falling freely from her lips, as she arched against him. Her toes curled as pleasure began to sink lower and lower, burning hotter and hotter as they picked up the pace, rocking with more insistence. Writhing and trembling from the wonderful sensations that plagued her entire body, she was in a fevered and hopelessly aroused state, unable to stop herself from wanting more; from feeling more.

She barely began to comprehend Adrien too had began to vigorously meet her hips with the same burning, desperate and wanton hunger. His breath was hot, beads of sweat dotting his forehead, as he buried his flushed face into the crook of her neck once again. He loved kissing her here; adoring the silken column of flesh now marred by kisses, sucks and bruising love bites. Though he struggled to maintain what little self-control he had left, with Marinette’s beautiful pleasured gasps and breathless moans, he could only let the inevitable occur. Pleasure was mounting hot and fast, deep within his abdomen. He was so aroused, hard and swollen with need, as he continued to thrust hard against her. But when Marinette uttered a soft cry, her body freezing, Adrien paused, frightened that he had gone too far and that he had hurt her.

He gazed at her with frantic evergreen eyes, but she gently rubbed the back of his neck, assuring him that she was okay. She was more than okay. Marinette pulled him closer, lifting his head so she could hold his face in her hands, as she stared longingly into his eyes.

“There. Again.”

Adrien nodded, rocking a little firmer and deeper in a particular direction and Marinette moaned against his lips. Ah, so that was it. By complete accident, he had stumbled upon a part of her body that made her sing. Smirking slightly, he repeated the movement, ensuring his hips and the hard fabric of his pants kept rubbing against the one spot that lay hidden between her thighs.

Marinette was trembling in his arms, her moans now turning to desperate gasps and whimpers, the pleasure too hot and too much for her to take. She clung to him tightly, rocking against faster now, needing to feel more and to sate the burn that had begun to wind tight and snug between her thighs.

“A-Adrien! I – I think I’m - ” she sobbed, her wanton cries sending a bolt of hot pleasure straight to his groin. He picked up the pace, encouraging her lower half to meet his.

“M-me too, Marinette.” he groaned against her.

“Kiss me!” she begged him. Who was he to deny her anything that she wanted? Adrien promised he would give her everything and more. He captured her soft swollen lips in a fierce kiss.

The rocked against each other, unable to stop. The hardened fabric of Adrien’s jeans felt so good against her, caressing and teasing her through her soaked panties. With every thrust of his hips that he gave her, the perfect amount of pressure and friction that her entire body craved so much, sent wave after wave of pleasure to mount in her loins. And deep within her lower abdomen, the very same coil kept winding tighter and tighter, scorching with heat, and Marinette wanted nothing more than to release it. And with Marinette’s leg angled up ever so slightly, Adrien struggled to hold back his groans as she rubbed her leg against his groin. He could only frantically move against her, rolling his hips fast and certain. Both of them were panting, unable to muffle their moans and soft cries as their lower halves met with wanton abandon, seeking for the one thing they both craved.

Alone, on the floor in Marinette’s room, they pleasured each other, so close, their heated passion burning hot between them. So close, so very close. Almost there. Neither of them unable to stop even if they wanted to.

With one final thrust, Marinette suddenly froze, her back arching, as she rolled her hips hard against him for the last time. A sweet explosion of white-hot pleasure suddenly consumed her entire body; her aching core throbbing from the sensation. Release tore through her like a bolt of lightning and she gave a silent sob, clinging to Adrien as she shuddered violently beneath him. Hips continued to rock against her desperately, the man above her watching in pleasured awe as he helped her ride through her climax. Marinette’s cries had been his final breaking point. Adrien gave a low moan, burying his face into her neck, biting the flesh a little harder than he intended. He imploded as he too fell over the edge, shocks of pleasure hitting him one after the other. He suddenly felt hot and wet, his hips trembling against hers, as he released long and thick into jeans.

Ever so slowly, the pleasure began to ebb, releasing its tight hold on the two of them. No longer able to support his own weight, Adrien collapsed, falling to Marinette’s side, as he brought her tiredly into his arms. They were completely dishevelled, hair tousled from wandering hands and a now sweat-stained cushion, clothes completely askew from their explorations. Their bodies were hot, slick with sweat, still flushed pink from post arousal, and they were blissfully sated. The two of them were still panting, urging for their rapid heartbeats to slow; calming their bodies down. As the heat around them began to cool, the passion slowly dying away, Adrien held Marinette close to his chest. She sighed, lulled by the sound of his heartbeat.

As they lay in complete silence, allowing their bodies to return to a more sensible and appropriate state of mind, realisation slowly began to dawn on them.

The two of them had just … in Marinette’s room … to the point that they … oh.

For some reason neither Adrien nor Marinette found it in them to care, at least not yet. Instead they felt warm, satisfied, safe and most of all, wanted.

“W-wow.” she said softly, against this chest, her cheek pressed against the still heated skin of his bare chest. Some of the buttons had come undone from when she had pulled at his shirt, no doubt scattered around her room.

“Yeah. Wow.” Adrien responded, his voice just as quiet. He gently kissed the top of her head, fingers playing with the ends of her raven locks.

“That was - ” Marinette didn’t quite know how to say it.

“Incredible?”

“Yeah.”

Adrien gave a chuckle.

“I – I really wasn’t expecting that.” Marinette giggled, a shy blush gracing her face.

“Me neither. But I don’t regret what happened.”

“Me too.”

Marinette held Adrien close to her. He never let her go as they lay together, in each other's arms, the silence between them no longer uncomfortable. In fact, the silence felt safe, tender and absolutely perfect for what had just transpired between the two of them.

"I love you." he finally said, bright evergreen eyes gazing into beautiful sapphire blue.

"I love you, too." she whispered.

Things had now changed between the two of them. They had just shared something incredibly intimate, evidence of that shared moment still hot, wet and sticky in the lower parts of their clothing. They were closer now; both of them had shown and exposed very different parts of themselves to each other. They had shown each other what they were like at their most vulnerable and most aroused point. Knowing Marinette was the one Adrien needed, the one that he desired at such an intimate time, strangely warmed her heart. The two of them would have time to talk about it, soon hopefully. This very unexpected step in their relationship had changed many things. But as of that moment, Marinette was merely content lying on the floor with the man she loved so, so much.

“S-sorry about this.” Adrien said sheepishly, suddenly very embarrassed as he gave his lower half a quick glance, shame washing over him as he saw the very wet mark, which had started to seep through. How was he going to go home like this?

“You – you can stay over if you like. Borrow some of my dad’s pyjamas. I … I can wash your clothes for you.” she offered shyly.

“I would like that very much.”

Marinette smiled, a smile, which he returned before capturing his lips once more. Only this time, the kiss was soft, tender, and full of promise. It was a sharp contrast to their heated kisses from earlier.

“I – I know that you wanted to take the relationship slow, but after what happened – ” Marinette mused, when their lips finally parted.

Adrien could only give her a tight grin, evergreen eyes gentle. “We’re gonna have to set some boundaries. We can’t risk jumping each other during our Bachata performance.”

“True. There’s only so much we can showcase to an audience.”

“But as for our relationship, obviously things have changed. But – but I don’t want us to get to that stage yet. I don’t want to – ”

Marinette knew what he was referring to and she blushed a little. “Th-thank you. I’m – I’m not ready for that, either.”

“But, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do …” Adrien mused, watching the girl in his arms give a shy smile.

“Other things?” she asked.

“Yeah, other things.”

“I’m fine with that. It will help release all of the sexual tension whenever we dance together.”

Adrien laughed, bopping her lightly on the nose with his finger. Marinette had a point. The past few weeks had been very trying on his body. The number of times he had had to suppress the physical urge to go a further then what was physically appropriate whenever they danced together, hadn’t helped the awkward heated nights at home and the regular cold showers he had been taking.

“But in any case, since we’ve only had the one date, only for us to make this huge skip and head straight for the grinding – ”

“We were already doing that.” Marinette grinned. He rolled his eyes but gave her grin in return.

“Yes, that’s true. But you and I have a lot of dates to catch up on. How about I treat you to the movies, tomorrow? They’re showing Mega Strike 3: Destiny Falls.”

“I’d love that.”

\-----

Adrien helped Marinette with dinner, the two of them shyly glancing at one another as they cooked. Both of them had changed into fresh, clean clothing. Marinette had put on a soft night dress and a new set of underwear. Adrien had been leant a large white shirt and a pair of blue pyjama bottoms that were far too long for him, so he rolled them up around his ankles.

Things had changed between them now. What they had just shared, what had just happened wasn’t something they had prepared for. It had been very unexpected but both had wanted it. Yet they knew they would have to set boundaries now. Marinette wasn't sure if she was ready to take 'that' next step in their relationship. She wasn’t sure she was emotionally ready. And she had heard the stories; girls saying that it always hurt the first time. She knew there was no on else she would want to share that experience with, when the 'right' time actually came. But that time hadn't been today. She wasn't ready. Neither was Adrien. They didn't need to rush things, they had all the time in the world. Marinette and Adrien were willing to wait.

That didn’t mean either of them could explore other options. It would prepare both of them physically, emotionally and mentally until the 'right' moment came. It would allow the both of them to understand the significance of being in an intimate relationship for the first time, bringing them closer together and more romantically involved, as a couple.

As they sat down to eat, Adrien gave her a hesitant smile, taking her hand. She didn’t let go as she sipped her water.

“Y-you okay?” he asked.

Marinette smiled, putting her water glass back down. “More than okay. I … thank you, for that.”

Adrien gave a teasing grin, as he gazed at the girl he was so helplessly in love with. “The pleasure was all mine.”

She couldn’t resist the urge to add her own innuendo, blushing a little as she spoke. “Well, some of it was yours. Most of it was mine.”

Adrien gave a light chuckle. “You’re saying this to the one that practically instigated the whole thing in the first place.”

“And I’m the one that wanted it to happen.”

“Marinette … I … well, excuse my language, but ... I actually … I cummed in my boxers.” Adrien said sheepishly, a soft blush tinting his cheeks as he had remembered handing the soiled and sticky undergarments to her along with his jeans. She had put them in the washing machine with an embarrassed and awkward smile.

Marinette looked shyly at him. “So did I. And I did it first.”

“Not as much as me.”

“Oh really? My underwear says otherwise.”

“I think mine were far worse than yours.”

“You’d be surprised. Mine were pretty soaked when I put our clothes in the washing machine.”

Adrien raised an eyebrow, a smirk gracing his lips. “Are you challenging me, Mari?”

Still blushing, her freckled face embarrassed, she gave him a slight smile. “Bet you 20 euros that I can get you there before me, in the first ten minutes.”

“30 euros. You before me. Five minutes.” he gave a goofy grin.

She held out his hand. He took it, giving it a firm shake.

“Deal.” they said in unison.

Adrien pulled her towards him kissing her lips again, just because he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Some Adrienette smut 'cus all of that Bachata sexual tension has to ... ^///^ ... 'come' to and end. Like I said, this fanfiction is now rated Mature! Sorry again young-lings!


	32. Scorching Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This fanfiction is now rated Mature, thus is suitable for 'mature' audiences.

“Holy shit it’s so hot today. I envy your decision for wearing a skirt to work.” Alya groaned, pulling up her hair from her sticky neck. She had already taken off her work blazer and her work shirt, leaving her in her singlet.

“It is pretty terrible. And you never wear skirts, unless you have to.” Marinette commented, quickly offering her friend a spare hair tie from her wrist. Both girls tied their hair back in messy buns, allowing the occasional warm wind to blow against their hot necks.

“Suppose it could be a lot worse. You nearly finish with all of those dress orders?” her friend asked, taking a long drink from her ice tea.

Her colleague nodded. “Yup. Revised the sizing and custom details for all of them. Just need to get the final approval from the team before I phone up Stüdaria to get them re-made. I’ll do that the moment we finish our lunch break. Then I’ll continue finishing the final web design layouts for the latest blog.”

“Thanks, Mari. How come you’re so incredibly organised with your design work and university studies, but your social life at most times, is in complete shambles?”

“Hey!” Marinette exclaimed, slamming her water bottle down onto the table. “My social skills have greatly improved.”

Alya gave her a teasing grin. “So I’ve heard. Should I start calling you Mrs. Agreste-Rousseau? Am I hearing wedding bells in the near future?”

“Oh stop it! We’ve only been dating a little over-three weeks. And we’ve only just made it official.” Marinette groaned. But she had to be honest with herself. Those three weeks had been the most amazing, most unbelievable and exhilerating days of her life. Marinette had never been happier. She had never imagined she could love the beautiful sun-haired man with bewitching evergreen eyes, with a kind and loving heart of gold. Adrien had proven her wrong.

“Girl – you’ve been _official_ since the moment he kissed you, and you kissed back.”

“Well back then we were still getting used to the fact that we were a couple. And there was the issue of Adrien’s modeling career. I’m still getting used to the fact we’re actually a proper couple now.”

“How’d his fans take it? Besides the one at the grocery store, the other day.” Alya asked.

Marinette could only cringe at the one particular memory forever burned into her mind. A girl had purposely snubbed her in a supermarket. Though Marinette had stood her ground, at first ignoring her before telling her to back off. But the girl simply would not take a hint. Her hurtful and highly inappropriate comments and occasional threats towards Adrien’s career had been one thing. But when she had begun ranting about Marinette’s physical appearance, interjecting racist comments about her Eurasian ethnicity whilst claiming she was merely as _‘a cheap Oriental slut who was only using Adrien for his money and connections’_ , that had been her (and Adrien’s come to think of it) final breaking point.

However, before Marinette could even consider formulating a clever comeback, giving the girl a piece of her mind, Adrien had stopped her. Well, he hadn’t stopped her intentionally. Instead, Marinette had shrunk back, stepping away in shock, the moment she caught the look on Adrien’s face. His usual kind evergreen eyes had darkened with frenzied fury, his face scowling with complete disgust and hatred. Adrien spoke softly, his voice barely a murmur and absolutely dangerous, commanding the girl to apologise immediately. The unexpected response from Marinette’s golden-haired man and the sudden change in mood had the girl, humiliated and defeated by her once favourite model, but she had no choice but too. Marinette had accepted the apology with uncertainty, still shivering from the silent and violent change in Adrien’s usual charismatic, kind and gentle personality. She had seen him annoyed before, disgusted by other’s disgraceful behavior. She had even seen him somewhat angry remembering his occasional arguments with Chloe when she was still in school. This was the first time she had ever seen him absolutely enraged with another person. It was something she hoped she wouldn’t have to see to often in the future.

“Well, they were disappointed. But since the ‘incident’ went viral … no one really dares to get Adrien angry.” she murmured.

“Who knew the sunshine child could actually turn into a hurricane. I was surprised when I saw that video. But the bitch deserved it.”

“That was a terrible metaphor. And that’s a little harsh.”

Alya raised an eyebrow. “Had I been there I would have rammed her face into the lino flooring. Adrien let her off too easily.”

“I’m glad he had. I don’t want to have to bail you out of jail again.” Marinette muttered.

“Hey! I was well within my right to attack that creep! That guy groped your ass!” Alya exclaimed. She had been perfectly within her right to give the pervert a very sweet black eye.

“That was a long time ago. And thankfully no charges were made on you …”

“But seriously, back to the topic, you two are absolutely adorable! You’re always within him. Any chance you get! Even when you’re not going out on dates.”

“Alya, that’s not really true –” Marinette began but her friend cut her off.

“Mari, you practically spend every waking moment with him. If you’re not at work or not in class, you two are always together. Hell, he’s at your house 24/7. Your parents love him so much that he’s almost there every day!”

“W-well, he still loves to help out fixing the final refurbishments of the bakery, since we’re up and running again. He loves helping out in the kitchen too. And since I’m also making his costume for the performance –” Marinette tried to reason but Alya continued, completely ignoring her.

“He escorts you to and from classes, he helps you out on shop errands, he helps sell pastries at the bakery when he’s not modleling, for free might I add, and when he is modelling, you attend every one of his shoots. You go over to his place to play video games, you do homework together, study at the library. I’ve lost count on the number of dates that you two have had –” Alya continued on and on, listing on the many wonderful things Adrien had done for her in the short yet incredible and wonderful weeks they had been a couple.

“A-Alya, can you take a breath and just –“

“Not to mention, you eye-fuck, grope and hot ass body grind each other on a regular basis.” Alya finally finished with a smirk.

“FOR CRYING OUTLOUD! Stop saying Bachata is an opportunity to body grind!” she screamed into her hands.

“I’m actually surprised the two of you haven’t jumped each other yet. All that sexual tension’s gotta go somewhere.” Alya huffed, taking another swig of her drink.

Marinette’s face turned and even brighter red but it wasn’t from the unusually sweltering heat of the afternoon. She had yet to tell Alya that they had already somewhat ‘jumped’ each other in her bedroom. It made it incredibly difficult finding the right moment to ask her advice on ‘sex-related’ topics since she hadn’t told her friend about what had happened; about what had changed between Adrien and her. Marinette and Adrien had yet to take the next step in their relationship. But that didn’t mean they weren’t intimate with one another other. Not on a regular basis, both of them were still embarrassed and very shy about it. But the times they had been intimate, the occasion had been unexpected, a heat of the moment sort of thing, in Adrien’s bedroom or Marinette’s. Casual dates at home whilst playing Mega Strike III, dealing with the mundane trauma they called homework, watching a film or simply enjoying each other’s company. They certainly were not the most romantic of settings, nor had the moment been sexually enticing in any shape or form. But each moment had been just like the first, unexpected, curious, exciting and surprisingly tender. Small kisses, hugs, nose rubs lead to one thing. The yearning to feel skin on skin, simply lead to another. Hands would leave their joysticks, their game long forgotten as their playable characters died on the television screen. They were too lost in their kisses, hands preferring to explore new and more tangible territory.

Marinette still trembled with desire from the memory of Adrien’s hand cupping her carefully between her thighs, touching her intimately for the first time. Her soaked panties had been tossed carelessly to the corner of his cluttered bedroom, leaving her bare, aching and hopelessly aroused beneath her skirt. His caresses had been gentle, his hand inquisitive, lovingly catering to her every pleasured moan, mewl and sweet cry, which she struggled to muffle against his shoulder. And he watched her with dark lusty eyes, ignoring his own hardened need straining in his pants. With every thrust and curl of his fingers, or soft stroke or light flick across her sweet spot hidden at the top beneath her womanly folds, Adrien watched the breathtaking sight of Marinette shuddering against him, when she finally came undone. Marinette remembered blushing a bright red, shy with embarrassment, as she watched him lick the wet glistening evidence of her orgasm, clean from his fingers. He had relished her taste.

For Marinette’s part, it only seemed fair that she returned the favour, a soft smirk gracing her lips when Adrien had recoiled in shock the moment she slowly tugged at the zipper of his pants, down. Although she had yet to truly see him there, she still felt how beautiful and wonderful he was, like burning hot swollen velvet wrapped around throbbing steel. She had marveled at how certain touches, twists and pumps to his need caused his control to falter, and his hips to roll in sync with her hands. His thighs had trembled from pleasure; his eyes had squeezed shut as he moaned, encouraging her to go on. So she did, feeling strangely beautiful and sexy, just like she did whenever she danced with him. Touching him here in such an intimate way, taking the lead for the first time and guiding his every movement to the point she had complete control over his climax; Marinette had never felt more powerful or feminine. She was truly a Goddess of Love, Pleasure and Release. Adrien jerked violently against her, a low moan falling from his lips as he came. As she brought Adrien to the brink, feeling him spill and pulse into her hand, hot, long and thick, she wondered why this confident, and more desirable and darker side of her had never revealed itself until now.

From that moment onwards, Marinette and Adrien looked forward to their more private date nights, eager to discover and learn more about each other. For every intimate moment they had shared and experienced, brought them closer as lovers. The two of them would joke about it, tease each other gently, give each other shy smiles, as they held each other, warm, blissfully sated, safe and loved.

“Y-yeah. Uh … we’re not quite ready for that step yet.”

“Innocent children. You know, if you ever need tips on how to spice up your relationship, you know where to find me. I’m listed as Sex Goddess in your contacts.”

“Alya!”

 

\----- 

 

_We interrupt this news broadcast with a severe weather warning. Paris is expected to reach temperatures as high as 40 degrees Celsius, and possible higher in the later hours of the day. We encourage civilians to stay indoors and in shaded areas, and to remain in cool air-conditioned environments. Please drink plenty of fluids and stay as hydrated as possible. We also encourage that you do not venture outside unless you have to._

 

Marinette’s day at work had been cut short by the sudden news on the computer live-stream, Alya kept always played in the office. She had gotten a generic text from her university, as she packed up her bags, stating classes were cancelled until further notice. Any exams and assessments were also put on hold. She then proceeded to get a frantic call from her parents to tell her that Adrien was stopping by at the studio to pick them up in his car, to take them home.

As Marinette walked into the reception she could see the visible change outside through the glass doors. Everything outside was bathed in yellow light, the buildings, the cars, the trees and pavement distorted, rippling in her vision as Paris baked in the heat.

The moment she walked out the front door, she was met by a scorching wave of hot air, the heat burning her skin as she gave a yelp in pained surprise. Alya winced, quickly putting up her mini-umbrella to protect them from the blistering sun as they quickly got into Adrien’s car.

“Nino’s at your place Alya, he’s with your younger sisters, taking care of them.” Adrien said to her, glancing the two girls who pulled at their work clothes, trying to keep cool. He had turned the air conditioning on high, both of them sighing in relief.

“Thank god! With my parents down south for a bit, the two of them will be panicking.” Alya said.

“I’ll swing by your house first. Then we’ll head to your place, Marinette.”

Marinette nodded, as Adrien drove through the side streets, occasionally swearing from so many main roads being gridlocked with people and vehicles rushing to get home. Thankfully, his time as Chat Noir had granted him a whole new perspective. From his aerial vantage point whilst perching on the extended reach of his baton, Adrien had been granted a view of the entire city. He now knew Paris’s backstreets, side-alleys and short cuts like the back of his black-gloved hand. And in less then an hour, he somehow, managed to get Alya home safely and somewhat miraculously.

“I’m glad she made it through the door. Where did this sudden heat wave come from?” Marinette wondered, jumping into the front seat from the back of his car as they drove towards the bakery.

“Your guess is as good as mine. Or global warming decided to take the rest of the human populace hostage.” Adrien commented, swerving into a side street he knew would get him to the Dupain-Cheng home in less than fifteen minutes.

“Thank you for picking me up, Adrien.” Marinette said quietly.

“I wasn’t going to leave you.” he gave her a quick side-glance, smiling tenderly as he resumed driving.

Marinette could only smile in return, as she could see her home in the distance.

“But yesterday was only in the high 20’s. It’s so sudden and so unexpected.”

“A lot of people are in hospital from the severity of the heat. Apparently it just happened, whilst people were out in the street, going on with their lives. I get it was warm this morning but by mid-morning everything felt as if it was on fire.”

Marinette’s eyes widened in horror. “Are – are people okay?”

“Severe burns and a great number suffering from dehydration. But according to the radio, so far no one’s been reported dead.” Adrien said, thankfully.

Marinette heaved a sigh in relief.

“Th-this … this reminds me of the day of that rainstorm.”

“The one that turned into a sudden flashflood?” he asked quietly, never taking his eyes from the road.

“Y-yeah. Just like the flood, the entire of Paris has been affected, the sudden devastation of this heat wave is doing to the city and its civilian’s, is incredibly unexpected, despite the normality of its origins.”

Adrien was thoughtful as he drove, his face creased with concern, mouth pressed into a thin line. Evergreen eyes were trembling with worry. Something was bothering him.

“Y-you – could … could it be an akumatised civilian?” his voice was no more than a whisper.

Despite the scorching heat outside, Marinette felt her blood run cold. She shivered in her seat, a horrible nauseating swell of anxiety building in the pit of her stomach. The very idea of Paris being victim to akuma attacks after months of peace and safety … she couldn’t even bare to think about it.

“I ... I hope not.” she muttered, eyes staring warily out into the city life currently being blistered by the burning sun.

“Me too.”

 

\-----

 

Adrien escorted Marinette inside, braving the sun that burned his skin as he sheltered Marinette beneath the shade of his blazer coat. But even the slight protection hadn’t been enough to shield them from the sudden burst of heat that had hit their bodies the moment they got out of the car. Marinette had whimpered beside him and he held her carefully, quickly guiding her to the front door of her apartment. Sabine and Tom had been waiting for the both of them with cool drinks and cold wet towels.

Marinette (and her parents) had insisted that he stay, claiming it would be safer. It was only getting hotter and hotter as the minutes passed by and Adrien had no doubt being with Marinette’s family would have been the better option. But Adrien had to get home. For one, he needed to get back to Kim and Max, who were busy stocking up the fridge with drinks and fruits such as oranges and watermelons. They had even taken their recycled plastic bottles and filled them with tap water, piling them in their spare fridge, whilst ensuring the remainder of their flat remained cool. Therefore, Sabine had pushed several bottles of ice-cold water into his hands, a cold sandwich and a plastic tub of face towels, swimming in ice water, telling him to keep hydrated and cool. He took them gratefully, giving Marinette a quick kiss on her lips as she stared up at him with bright blue eyes full of concern. Adrien could only assure his Princess that he would be fine. And he would be with her again, soon.

But Adrien couldn’t go home, not just yet. As he drove down a hidden alleyway, he urged Plagg to come out of hiding. He gave his kwami one of the ice-cubes from the tub, dampening his fingers to keep him cool.

“I know you hate getting wet, Plagg but just bare with it for once.” Adrien apologised. Thankfully, the black cat didn’t complain as he sucked on his ice cube, letting his chosen soak his fur with his icy wet fingers. The heat had been sweltering and he had been close to suffocating and passing out from hiding beneath the sweaty fabric of Adrien’s shirt.

“For once, kid, I ain’t gonna start screaming about it. I’m that closed to swimming in that ice-cold tub of yours. Now put that towel on your head kid. Keep your head cool or you’ll get heatstroke.”

Adrien did as he was told, sighing in relief when the frigid surface began to cool and sooth his burning hot skin. Lowering his temperature, he blinked a few times when water ran down his face, joining the sweat that had beaded there. The dizzying light-headedness from the scorching heat outside had somewhat dissipated. Able to function once again, he looked into his sandwich, giving a smile. Adrien had told Sabine that he loved Camembert in all of his ham sandwiches. She had been quick to include it in every packed lunch for him in neat slices.

“Here Plagg, eat as much as you want. And be quick. We don’t have much time.”

He offered his kwami a piece of cheese. But Plagg didn’t eat it. Despite the longing in his eyes, Plagg was hesitant.

“Kid – you’re not thinking of going out in this weather? Adrien, it’s over forty degrees outside. And I can sense that the temperature is steadily rising slowly but surely by the minute. You’ll die from the heat if you stay out there.” Plagg warned him.

“Look. There’s a very big chance that this heat wave has been caused by an akumatised victim. First, the flashflood. Now this. I don’t call that a coincidence. The similarities are too great. The weather patterning is far too drastic for ‘normal’ weather events.” his chosen argued, dabbing another cold towel to his chest as he sighed in relief from the soft coolness.

“Okay, I’ve had my suspicions too. Though the space between both events is highly unusual, especially for an akumatised victim. Usually they’re shorter, more consistent. But the severity of this heat wave only leaves an akuma attack as the most plausible cause.”

Adrien thought for a moment, confusion creasing in his eyes. “But – but why now. Why the moment I get back to Paris. Paris was safe when I was in Bordeux. It had been safe for three years when I was in America! Why would Hawkmoth attack now, when he could have attacked the city when it was left at its most vulnerable, with only Ladybug there to protect it?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, kid. Hawkmoth usually attacked Paris, consistently. I assumed he went into hiding when you left France. But now he’s possibly returned since your arrival back.”

“If – if that’s the case, I need to find this akumatised civilian, and quickly too. I’ve never seen an akuma attack of this magnitude and with so much power.”

“Kid! You can’t go outside!” Plagg exclaimed. “Not for long, anyway! You’ll die if you stay out there for too long! Finding the akuma could take hours! Something your health and safety, lack in this circumstance.”

“Plagg! You know I don’t have a choice. The longer I sit her, the worse it will get. So many people are being rushed to hospital. The entire city is in shutdown. I have to do something.” Adrien pleaded, desperately trying to keep himself cool.

“Adrien – your suit isn’t designed to withstand such temperatures! And in all black, you’ll burn!”

“There has to be something. Can’t you alter the suit? Make it more breathable, use fabric that will help me to keep cool? Add a hood and add tinted glass to my mask, to protect my eyes? Anything at all?!”

Plagg thought hard for a moment. “I – I think I’ll be able to modify it, Adrien. That part’s easy. But not for long. Your suit is specifically designed to blend in the shadows and dark places, its streamline allowing you to move with greater speed and agility without any hindrance as you fight. These changes will require me to use more of my energy. I don’t think I’ll be able to hold out for too long with such drastic changes. And with the heat, this will only shorten your transformation time.”

“It’s something, Plagg. I’ll take anything! We have to save, Paris.” 

Plagg quickly at his cheese. “Bring some water with you, kid. Two bottles at least. I can’t have my chosen pass out on the job from dehydration. I can give you an hour at most. So keep to the shadows as much as possible. Try to stay off of roofs; it will be hotter up there. Use as little energy as possible in order to maximize your time as Chat Noir.”

Adrien nodded. “ _Plagg! Claws out!_ ”

 

\-----

 

Chat Noir lurked deep within the shadows; sweat running down his forehead as he took another drink. The water was lukewarm bit it soothed his parched throat. Plagg had been right. The heat wave affecting Paris was scorching the city and its civilians, was getting hotter and fiercer by the minute. Paris had been turned into a dangerous and unfathomable, inferno of hell … literally. Heat was visibly beginning to rise and distort the clarity of his surroundings and it slowly crept into the darkest of places. Not even the shadows could save him from every wave of scathing warmth that scalded his skin. Thankfully Plagg had managed to alter his costume, the fabric made of a strange thick material, which allowed his skin to breathe whilst still protecting him from the burning rays of the sun. Chat Noir had also donned a hood, which he kept wrapped around his face, covering his mouth and nose, protecting him from the intense shock of inhaling hot air. His green eyes were also protected, the eye holes of his mask covered by tinted glass.

Chat’s baton vibrated behind his back and he pressed the screen. It was his Lady. Chat had been thinking about this dreaded moment for weeks on end. It had been three weeks since he had last seen his lady, opting for private patrols, as it suited both their schedules better. In those three weeks, thing had changed, many things had happened. He had yet to confess to his Lady that the love and adoration he had once had for her, as strong and as fiery as the heat that blazed around him, had slowly but surely dimmed. For another Princess, unassuming, gentle, fierce and kind, had utterly captured his heart.

Chat felt guilty, he was terrified of talking to her. How could he betray this extraordinary woman? How could he hurt his Princess for still harboring some sort of affection for his partner? Was it love out of loyalty? Chat didn’t know but he had to be pragmatic about the situation. Paris needed them. Despite his feelings, despite the remorse and painful ache in his heart, Chat Noir had a responsibility.

“My Lady. You’re call is as calming and cool as the soft spring breeze, refreshing and greatly appreciated on this hot summers day.” Chat Noir mused lightly, heart clenching as he feigned his enthusiasm.

He had showered his Lady with so much affection, he was genuine yet flirty by nature. As Adrien complimented his Lady, he felt nothing but guilt for vocally adoring and complimenting another woman. He was certainly the worst person in the world. What would Marinette think of this side of him? What would she say if she found out that he was indeed Chat Noir, the very superhero who harboured a deep and publically known love for his superhero counterpart? He really was the worst person in the world, to have ever existed.

“Chat! Now’s not the time to make flirty comments! I’ll meet you on the roof of Notre Dame. I’ve found something, which might be related to this sudden heat wave. Stay in the shadows as much as you can.”

Ladybug’s frantic and curt response strangely made him relax a little. Not having to make his ‘usual’ flirty comments in the hopes of winning his Lady’s affection, settled him just fine. He couldn’t betray his Princess anymore than he already was.

“Alright, Bugab- … My Lady.” Adrien had to stop himself. He couldn’t. He couldn’t call Ladybug that. So much had happened. So much had changed.

“Ch-Chat … Are you alright?” his Lady asked, concern in her voice. Chat internally cursed. His Lady was far too perceptive. He had heard his hesitance, his quick rebuttal, his unwillingness to use the ‘pet-name’ he had constantly annoyed her with out of a love, which seemed so long ago.

“I – I’m fine, LB. It’s nothing. I’ll see you as soon as I can.”

“Oh. Okay. Be careful in the heat.”

Chat watched the dial tone beep. He then sighed, rubbing his face as he put away his baton, his hand meeting slick hot skin. How on earth was he going to face her? What would he say to her? But he was a superhero. He couldn’t run away from his responsibilities. He had to save Paris. And he had to tell Ladybug the truth. He had to tell his Lady, his heart now belonged to another. Adrien had been terrified the day he had decided to be honest with his Princess, when he finally confessed his true feelings to Marinette. As of that moment, Chat Noir had never been more horrified and guilt-ridden for what he was about to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally ... Another chapter, yay! I will be posting chapters slowly, since I'm celebrating Christmas with my family and it's difficult to find the time to type up chapters for this fanfiction. But I intend to continue. What I plan on doing perhaps is making longer and more detailed chapters, with more content. It will make chapter updates more worth while to read. 
> 
> Enjoy this chapter! xoxox


	33. Victims - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This fanfiction is now rated Mature, thus is suitable for 'mature' audiences.

Ladybug was waiting for him, hidden in the shadows cast by of one of the clock towers. She too had altered her costume slightly in order to suit the weather, a red and black spotted hood and scarf wrapped around her face to protect her from the harsh heat.

“My Lady.” Chat softly landed next to her, crouching on his the back of his feet and hands. “It’s truly unfortunate we meet again after so long, and in such dire circumstances.”

His Lady nodded, blue eyes behind her spotted mask were dark with concern. He could see the sweat running down her forehead, trying to keep her cool.

“Y-yeah. It’s … it’s been a while.” She said quietly.

There was an awkward silence between the two of them. Chat bit his lip as he scratched the back of his head, looking over Paris as it scorched in the sun’s blazing heat. It could have been minutes, hours, seconds, Chat Noir wasn’t sure. All he knew was this. He hadn’t seen Ladybug since their last night together on top of the Eiffel tower. That had been four weeks ago. During that time he had made no attempt to contact her. He had purposely patrolled alone, avoiding routes he knew Ladybug would use, choosing nights so he could watch over the Princess that had captured his heart. He didn’t contact her. He had been glad, relieved even, that she had made no attempt to contact him. During those weeks, he had completely forgotten about his Lady. He had been too busy neglecting his duty as a superhero, his duty for her. Not only had he forgotten about her … he had fallen out of love for her. Not completely, but he wasn’t as ‘in-love’ with her as he had been all those years ago. He still cared for his beautiful Ladybug. But she no longer had his heart, for another girl had slowly but certainly had begun to adore it with a kindness he had never known before. He had no doubt she was frantic, concerned for him as she paced in her pretty pink bedroom, waiting anxiously for him to return to her.

He was glad for his tinted mask for it hid the tears that were beginning to brim his eyes. Chat feared that seeing Ladybug again during those weeks he had been with his Princess, would have rekindled and sparked passionate feelings he had long desired to extinguish. His fears had been correct. The moment he laid eyes on his Lady, his loyalty and devotion to the one woman who had been there for him through thick and thin, made his heart throb. And Chat wanted the world and his misery to swallow him whole. For that very reason, he had purposely tried to avoid her, offering no explanation or apology. All because he had fallen in love with Marinette, but hadn’t quite fallen out of love with Ladybug. Now he was stuck. He was utterly torn between two of the most amazing and incredible women he had ever known. And Chat was sick to the stomach with guilt.

“Chat.” Ladybug said softly, breaking the unbearable tension that had arisen between the two of them.

“Yes, Ladybug?” Chat didn’t look at her. He didn’t have the courage to.

“I – we both have many things to say to each other. I can feel it.” She whispered to him, her voice sad and distant. He could only imagine the weariness and the melancholy in her lovely face. And his heart clenched with pained guilt that the truth would only hurt her even more.

“But we can’t discuss them now. Not here. Not when Paris needs help. We can’t let how we feel or any problems we face during our civilian lives, affect our mission and our ability to fight. We have a responsibility. Once we defeat this heat wave, the next time we see each other as our superhero counter parts, we’ll talk. Get some things straight between us. Is – is that okay?”

Ladybug was hesitant. Chat found himself smiling a little, his shoulders relaxing as he took her hand. He gave it a squeeze, and he felt her give a comforting squeeze back.

“I’m more than happy with that arrangement, my Lady.”

When he looked back at his achingly beautiful partner, she was smiling. Could he really see Ladybug as beautiful? Did he have the right to? He was with Marinette now. He couldn’t still find his Lady the most stunning and most extraordinary person he had ever known since he was fifteen. He really was the worst.

No! Ladybug was right. He was here for a reason. That reason was to protect Paris. Whatever feelings he had, whatever inner-conflict that wastearing his heart into two, he had to push them aside for now. He had to be pragmatic. His civilian life could not in any shape or form, interfere with his duties as Chat Noir.

“Alright then, Chat – we have to figure out what the heck is going on with this strange weather.” She gestured to the cityscape around her.

“Usually this is the time I crack a really awesome joke or pun but I’m actually trying really hard not to melt here.”

Ladybug rolled her bluebell eyes, giving a smirk. “Try not to liquefy on me, then. I need my partner in working order.”

“One of my many talents. Looking this good and being this hot, takes a lot of effort.” He gave a slight shrug, flashing her his signature cat grin.

“And here, I was hoping for no puns – but seriously Chat, it’s far too warm to be deflecting your jokes right now. I can barely think straight and I need to tell you what I’ve discovered.”

“What have you learned, LB?”

“This heat wave, clearly it’s been caused by an akumatised victim. I was gonna go out scouting, see if I could find someone, something … any clue that would get me closer to the akuma, as well as back up the whole idea Hawkmoth is the culprit once again.”

Chat nodded. “I’m worried though. If Hawkmoth has akumatised another civilian, why would he attack now?”

“I – I’m not sure,” Ladybug said hesitantly. “After you went away, he made no attempt to akumatise another person. There were no attacks on the city. At first I patrolled the area, looking to see if he was just stalling his time but after the first six months, I assumed he had simply … gone. Vanished. I’ve been uneasy ever since, wondering if he was waiting for the right moment to attack. I mean – you left. And it would have been the perfect moment for him to strike.”

Chat frowned, his face miserable in the hot sun. Yet another thing to be guilty over; he had completely abandoned his Lady to fend Paris for herself.

“Anyway,” she continued, “It’s obvious that Hawkmoth is back. As for why he’s back and why he’s decided to strike now and with such power too – that’s what I intend to find out.”

“How did you get any information, especially in this heat?”

“I didn’t. I made a few contacts. Do you remember Alya, the girl who runs the Ladyblog?”

How could he not? “Of course. Did she help you?”

“Gave her a call, she’s amazing at research with her being a reporter and all. After she sort of … gushed and praised me, I had her dig into a few files and search on social media, videos, and news channels for any recent events or occurrences that have affected particular people. She didn’t come up with anything at first but Alya’s not one for giving up. She eventually found something for me, with the help of her … um … her boyfriend.”

“Oh, that’s great! What did … hold up! Did you say, boyfriend?!” Chat Noir stared at his Lady with incredulous eyes. Was he hearing this right? Since when did Alya have a boyfriend? She hadn’t mentioned anything. Nino hadn’t mentioned anything either. He would have been the first that Nino would have called, ranting and sobbing in misery over the phone, as he drowned through his tears. Adrien remembered the horrible break up well and he knew Nino had never truly moved on from the woman he had fallen deeply in love with. None of that made sense. Nino hadn’t seemed upset recently. He would have definitely mentioned Alya dating someone, which he hadn’t. Unless –

“Yup. She’s dating her … well, I say ‘ex’ tentatively. From what I gather, they’re back together.”

“Oh.” Chat was at a loss for words. He was even more surprised to see Ladybug was the same.

“That’s – that’s a surprise. You know Alya well, outside of the Ladyblog?”

His partner shook her head quickly. “I – in my civilian life I have a friend that knows her well. Besides … their break up was pretty public, if you remember the video that went viral.”

Chat visibly winced. At least this was something he didn’t have to be cautious about revealing too much ‘civilian’ information; the video had been a hit on social media and YouTube.

“Uh yeah … I saw that.”

There was an awkward silence then Ladybug spoke again. “B-back to the topic. We have other things to worry about. She sent me some information she found. From what she’s gathered, from briefly giving me a quick summary of everythin, I’m convinced this is the person we’re looking. This is the akumatised villain.”

Ladybug flipped open her red and black spotted yoyo. She hit the play button and a video flashed on screen.

\----- 

_SCREEEEEEEEEEEECH! CRAAAAAAAAAAAASH!!!!!!!_

_“No! My baby! My baby was in that car!”_

_“Mam, please come with us!”_

_“How could you?! MURDERERS! You killed my baby! You shouldn’t have chased after him! YOU KILLED MY BABY!”_

_“Mam! Please! I’m sorry but your son was driving under the influence of alcohol and other drugs. He assaulted several people before injuring two other civilians whilst he was driving. He died immediately on impact.”_

_“Murderers! You should have just let my baby go! You were always hounding him! Everyone was! The whole world hated him! Hated us! And you killed him! You killed my baby!”_

_“Mam – please calm down! You need to come to the police station!”_

_“Stop! Let go of me! Take your hand off of me or I’ll – ”_

_“Keep her still! Restrain her if you have to!”_

_“YOU KILLED MY SON!”_

_“Take her away.”_

_“You’ll be sorry! All of you that hated him! YOU’LL BE SORRY!”_

_\-----_

The video went black, a replay button suddenly coming up on the screen.

Chat Noir hadn’t realised he had slowly wrapped an arm around Ladybug’s waist, holding her close as she leaned towards him for comfort. Both of them were silent when the video-clip ended, shock and unease sinking in their stomachs, their hearts heavy with certainty.

The video had been horrible. There was so much shouting. So much blood. So much distress and chaos from the horrible accident. So much misery, disbelief and fury from that one woman. There had been so much death. Neither Ladybug nor Chat had ever encountered a victimised civilian as grief-stricken as her. The pain and inner torment their usual victims had faced, had been simple, almost petty anger. But this, this pain was far deeper, far more complicated, far more ingrained in a person’s psyche. How on earth would they purify the akuma from such a wretched and suffering person? How could they mend a tormented and broken heart? How would they save this person from their own demise, let alone find her?

“My Lady? Are you okay?” Chat asked quietly. He knew she wasn’t. He could feel her shuddering softly against his shoulder, sniffing back her tears. He gently rubbed circles on her back, hushing her.

“Th-that … that was so … horrible.” She whispered. She desperately tried to get a hold of her self, blinking away her tears. They had a job to do. One she had no idea how to solve.

“I know. I’m sorry we have to deal with something like this.”

“I – I know this. It was on the news. But this was almost a year ago.”

“Yeah. Same. I know ‘cus this happened in Bordeaux, very close to … to an area I know fairly well. It was really big news there. I know it made some headlines outside of the city but not to the same extent as it did, there.”

“But this happened a year ago, in Bordeaux you say. Not Paris. Why on earth would the akuma attack Paris? Why would Hawkmoth akumatise a civilian so far away from the one thing he wants; our Miraculouses?”

Chat Noir frowned, quickly taking out his baton as he typed into his keypad. Something from the particular case had bothered him. He needed to make sure. When news articles finally flicked across the screen, his suspicions were confirmed, a sickening feeling swirling in the pit of his stomach.

“Ladybug, the woman in the video was sent to a psychiatric ward a couple of weeks after being held in isolation. Marie DuBois; I think that was her name. She attacked several officers and was deemed to mentally unstable and violent to be put on trial. It was big news, there.”

“What happened to her after that?”

“I – I remember seeing it somewhere in an article; small, insignificant since Paris at the time didn’t really know or screen this case, as much as it had been in Bordeaux. Hardly anyone here knew about her and what happened.”

Chat clicked on a particular link, and held it for his Lady to see clearly, his face grim. “She was moved to a psychiatric ward in Paris. This was five weeks ago. Hawkmoth must have seen the opportunity.”

Ladybugs blue eyes widened with fear, her mouth falling open with horrified realisation.

“S-so much time for …” Her voice was barely a whisper. Ladybug couldn’t finish her sentence, not wanting to believe the terrible truth.

“For someone to plot revenge, to fuel powerful and seething hatred for the people that have wronged her – for the ‘world’ that took her son away.”

“So much grief-stricken emotion to sustain such a powerful and destructive event like this one; a years worth.”

“Enough to control an unpredictable and incredibly volatile heat wave. More than that, at such a size too.” Chat Noir observed his surroundings with cheerless acknowledgement, bringing his Lady close to him once again. She gripped at his suit, fearing that he might disappear if she let go; he was her only source of comfort, her sense of stability and kind-hearted sanity in this mess.

“You said she was moved to Paris five weeks ago.” Ladybug said softly.

“Yes.”

“Could she –” Ladybug gasped in shock, the hurt stabbing deep into her chest that she couldn’t breathe. “Please tell me she couldn’t have caused the flashflood, three weeks ago?!”

Chat Noir felt his world pull from under him, cold, dark comprehension taking him by the neck as he drew in a sharp, almost strangled breath.

Paris burned by a scorching sun, and her civilians held hostage by the burning heat wave that threatened the entire city, vanished before his eyes. For all he could see … all he could feel … were the memories of ice-cold misery, a pitch black night and the pouring rain, slowly breaking the sobbing helpless girl he had fallen deeply in love with, piece by piece as he rocked her in his arms.

“ _Shit!_ ”

 -----

“Alya! You can’t be serious! You’re not going out there to film your fucking blog!” Nino snarled, as he drove furiously down the streets of Paris, away from her Aunt’s where they had recently dropped off her younger siblings.

“My blog had nothing to do with this Nino! Ladybug’s asked me for my help. And help I’ll give. Now are you gonna take me to Hôpital Psychiatrique de Napoléon or not?” Alya gave her ‘boyfriend’ of a few short weeks, a glare as fierce as the searing heat that scorched Nino’s car.

‘Boyfriend’ had been a very loose term for them. They had gotten back together. But they hadn’t officially repaired their relationship. Not completely. They still had a long way to go. And another fight had started to boil between the two of them the moment Ladybug had contacted Alya for her help. And Nino merely returned her glare with a glower of the same simmering intensity, brown eyes incredibly displeased.

“You were asked to research and provide them with the information they needed. That was it! Last time I checked, going to the very same hospital this so-called akumatised victim has been wreaking havoc in the past few weeks, was not a requirement!”

Alya huffed, rolling her eyes. “Like I’m going to let a little sunny weather stop me from helping my biggest idol. The blog is merely a bonus. I don’t see a problem in any of this –”

Nino gripped the steering wheel, slamming on the break.

Alya violently jerked forward in her seat, her seat belt pulling her backwards.

“Jesus! Nino! Be careful!” She coughed, all of her oxygen suddenly gone from the sudden bout of whiplash he had given her.

“Careful. You’re about to venture out into a fucking inferno with the intention of going to a psychiatric prison ward, filled with the most dangerous and most mentally unstable patients in all of France so you can get the latest scoop for your petty Lady-fucking-blog, and you want _me_ to be careful?!” Nino’s voice was surprisingly quiet.

Alya could only stare at him warily. His hands were clenched at the steering wheel, his entire body hunched over, muscles in his shoulders and back tense. Nino never took his eyes away from the gridlock traffic before them. He refused to look at her. Alya knew she had pushed too far. Nino was angry. No … he was absolutely furious with her.

“Nino, I – I’m … sorry. I just – ” she sighed, trying to find the right words. Alya wasn’t one for apologising. She was used to getting things done her way. She was stubborn, forceful when it came to it and was at most times, right. She wasn’t used to apologising. Especially to him. She was struggling to make an attempt to ease the situation, or at the very least rid the interior of the car, from the tension that now hug thick and heavy between the two of them.

“Do you love me?” He asked quietly.

The question was so sudden, and so unexpected that Alya’s head snapped up. She stared at him through her glasses with wide and very confused hazel eyes.

“I – of course I do.”

Nino sighed, the tension slowly slipping from his hunched shoulders, as he loosened his grip from the steering wheel.

“Really, Alya?” He didn’t sound uncertain. He sounded, weary, as if he’d almost given up.

"You know I do. What kind of question is that?” she exclaimed. Why was Nino asking her this? Of all times.

“Then why? Why do you say things that make me so – so angry?” Nino leaned back in his chair, eyes creasing closed as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“W-what?” Alya gasped. She was suddenly very scared.

“Ever since we started dating when we were fifteen, you did these crazy things! You put yourself at risk, with little thought to the consequences and how others might feel about it. You were always so stubborn, going on about your way despite others telling you not to, disregarding people’s feelings.”

“I – I can’t change that. You know I can’t. And I’m sorry every day that people have to live through my decisions. But I’ve accepted who I am. Just the way I’ve always accepted you for who you are.”

“That’s not the point! You put yourself in danger and over what?! A stupid blog!”

“It’s not a stupid blog! I’ve put my life into following Ladybug, helping her in anyway I can, proving to everyone that’s she one of the most amazing and bravest person I’ve ever known! There’s nothing wrong with that!” Alya protested but he cut her off.

He didn’t scream at her. He just sounded sad.“Even to the point you forget that there are more important things than the ‘thrill’ of being on the crime scene. Like your family, your friends … your safety … me, even?”

Alya flinched. That wasn’t true. It wasn’t! Nino was he most important person. “N-no. You know that you’re the most important person to me. You’re my entire world. I love you so much that … that it hurts.”

“Then why do you do things that make me want to scream at you? Why do you ignore so many things that I say? Why don’t you ever communicate with me sometimes? You’re all about honesty and finding out the truth but you stubbornly refuse to let me in because you know I’ll probably disapprove of your dangerous antics? Why do you say and do such _stupid_ things that make me want to knock some sense into that thick head of yours? Why do you make me ... dislike you so much?”

Every word cut her deeply. Wow. It really did hurt. With each cut, Alya felt the pain tear and slice at her insides, finally manifesting itself in hot tears that fell from her eyes. Although she tried to blink them away, pushing the pained grief to the back of her mind, transforming it to fury, she found she couldn’t. Instead, she sat in her seat looking at her lap. She let herself be weak. She let the daggers hurt her, as she made no attempt to bring back up her shield of bravado and disinterest. Alya let herself cry in front of him.She didn’t feel the car start. She didn’t notice him driving. She just let the tears fall. Alya didn’t know what she felt in her heart. Was it guilt for hurting him so? Was she disgusted at her own selfish and idiotic needs that she cared so little for his own feelings? Was it betrayal and hatred for the man she thought accepted her for who she was? Was it disappointment for his lack of support? Or was she frightened that Nino hated her; that maybe he was beginning to no longer care for her? She wasn’t quite sure. All she knew that everything that did feel, was slowly breaking her heart piece by piece, the misery consuming her whole, destroying her from the inside.

Alya didn’t even notice that Nino had finally stopped the car, the engine humming.

“Call me and I’ll pick you up, later. Stay out of trouble.” He was so defeated. He really had just about given up on her.

Alya glanced out the window. Her heart broke. They were outside the gates of Hôpital Psychiatrique de Napoléon.She looked back at her hands. She couldn’t look at him, as fresh tears fell from her face, dripping down onto her fingers and jeans. Alya knew what she had to do. It wasn’t a question about choice. She just had to do it.

“Take me to 12 Rue St. Denis.” She said softly.

“Huh?”

“My studio; my workspace where I do blogs and other videos for clients.”

“Isn’t your parent’s place safer? Shouldn’t we head there instead?”

“I have to check if the place hasn’t been affected by the heat wave. There’s plenty of water there for me to drink. And there’s food too. I’ll stay hydrated.”

“Why do you need to go there? For the Ladyblog?”

Alya shook her head as she looked out onto the scorching streets.“To think about a few things.”

Nino didn’t say anything for a moment. The car was still stalling. Waiting.

“What about filming for Ladyblog? What about Ladybug?”

“ _What about Ladybug?”_ She repeated the question.

She could hear Nino recoil in his seat. She could feel his shock, his disbelief in her. It pained her to think that the man she loved so much genuinely thought that her passion for finding out the truth, doing absolutely anything if it meant getting her ‘story’, had started to feel that he was a mere second to her dreams. And she had no one but herself to blame for that.

“Would you like me to help? Or pick you up afterwards so we can wait out the heat wave at your place?”

She shook her head, gritting her teeth as she spoke through the lie. “It’s okay.”

It wasn’t. It wasn’t okay. Far from it. “I’ve actually got a few projects." Alya continued her lie, "I – I need to finish them so I’ll spend the night there.”

“You don’t need help with any research or – ”

“Nino.” She took a deep breath and let out a pained sob. “I – I need to be on my own for a bit.”

There was silence. A horrible gut wrenching, silence as realisation finally began to dawn on him.

“A-Alya!” Nino’s voice was barely a whisper, almost pleading.

“Please. Please don’t shut me out. Not again.”

Alya’s already broken heart finally shattered, the fragments scattered in a disarray of turmoil and anguish. She couldn’t let him in. Not yet. She couldn’t. She hurt too much. She had hurt him, too. After what was said, Alya had to make things right. For the both of them. And in order to make things right, she had to hurt him once more. And Alya was dead inside.

“I – I don’t want you to have to wait for … for someone like me. Just. We need time. Okay? I need time. To sort things out. So just leave me there for a couple of days. I’ll … I’ll call if there’s any problem.”

Alya never looked at her ‘boyfriend’, as silent tears fell from her eyes. Nino said nothing, as they drove away from the psychiatric ward, their future nothing short of uncertain.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo hoo! Finally! A new chapter! Another long one guys! Full of pain, misery and angst! And more DJWifi because you can never have too much of these two! <3


	34. Victims - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This fanfiction is now rated Mature, thus is suitable for 'mature' audiences.

"Tiki? Are you alright? Are you hanging in there?" Marinette asked her kwami anxiously, letting her sip some of the warm stale water she had left. It tasted bad but it was still liquid. 

"I'm fine Marinette. I should be able to transform you back soon. You'll be able to be Ladybug for another hour. But what about you? Are you okay? Are you drinking enough water?" 

"I'm all good, Tiki. Chat Noir said he's getting some more for us. No doubt he's also recharging his kwami."  

"We have to hurry and find this akumatised victim. It's far too hot for you to be out here any longer. You'll die. I hope this hospital ward isn't too far away." 

"We're fairly close to it. Alya sent me directions. I – I just hope we can fix things. That _I_ can fix things." Marinette said quietly, crouching against the wall whilst she rested in the shade. 

"Everything will be alright. You'll fix things." Tiki said, perching on her chosen's shoulder. 

"But what if it isn't?! What if I can't fix things?" she whispered, pushing her damp sticky hair from her weary eyes. 

"Of course you will. You always do, you always find away. You're not one for giving up. You're always so determined to see things through. And your lucky charm will purify and bring everything back to normal."  

Her tiny kwami assured her gently but Marinette wasn't comforted, bringing her knees up to her chin, as she stared glumly out onto the cobbled streets, baking in the sun's heat. 

"But I didn't see it the first time." 

"Marinette?" 

"The storm. The flood. If – if the flood truly was caused by the same akuma, how could I not see it? Why didn't I see the signs?" 

"We don't know if it's been caused by-" Tiki began cautiously but Marinette swiftly cut her off, and the tiny kwami watched her chosen doubt and berate herself, with helpless blue eyes. 

"Who are we kidding, Tiki? The timing of the attacks, the effect it's had on the Parisian civilians, it's just too much of a horrible coincidence. It has to be the akuma. The flood could have been stopped. It could have been prevented!" Marinette suddenly lashed out, her fists hitting the wall she leaned against with a violent smack. 

"Marinette!"  

The tiny kwami flew back in alarm by the sudden and violent change in her chosen, whose blue eyes had gone dark with anger, brimming with tears of disappointment. 

"You know what's worse. All of it could have been fixed. I could have _fixed_ it. But I didn't. I didn't do anything. And now, my family is paying the price for my mistake, my stupid negligence! I'm the worst! I'm -" 

 _"Enough!"_ Tiki chirped loudly.  

Marinette, startled, hesitantly looked to her kwami who was buzzing furiously beside her.  

"I don't want to hear anymore from you, Marinette. You have to stop thinking like that! Stop blaming yourself for something that you have yet to discover that you're truly at fault for. Did you cause this heat wave? No. Did you cause the flood? No! Are you at fault for the events that caused your bakery to be destroyed? Absolutely not! And finally … how could you have known that would have happened! You are not to blame in any shape or form. Do you understand me, Marinette?" 

Tiki was firm and to the point, hoping to knock a little bit more sense into the young woman. Even at twenty-one, her chosen would often revert to self-deprecation and doubt whenever she lacked the confidence and believed things to be her fault. Although Marinette did everything in her power to solve things, to make things right, that didn't mean Marinette was fixed. Emotionally, Tiki knew Marinette was sensitive, shy, pressured into always having to be right, thus she often doubted herself. She needed others to believe in her, to trust her, thus she was constantly pressured to see things through and do everything right until the very end. As Ladybug, Marinette could hide behind a mask of perfection, charisma, strength and grace. But out of the costume, she was only Marinette, an ordinary girl who made mistakes. And Marinette couldn't afford to make mistakes. Especially not now. At least, that's what Marinette believed. 

"T-Tiki ..."  

Tiki floated towards Marinette, hovering just above her face. 

"Let's just get to this place first. We stop the akuma. We cure the civilian. We get rid of this heat wave." Tiki said gently. "That's our main goal. Alright?" 

Marinette nodded. "O-Okay." 

Tiki gave a warm smile. "I'm ready. You can transform back into Ladybug." 

"Right." 

Marinette closed her eyes as she breathed in deeply, warm air filling her lungs before she exhaled. She had to be ready. She had to be rational. She needed to focus. And she couldn’t let self-doubt or any of her insecurities affect her like they had moments ago. 

 _"Tiki! Spots on."_  

 

\-----

 

Something wasn't right. Ladybug kept close to Chat, extending his baton in front of him at the ready, whilst she kept her yoyo close to her. The ward was completely deserted. There were no doctors, no security, no patients. Everyone was gone. The entire building was completely deserted. The entire place felt cold, unwelcoming. And the air felt chilly, a sharp contrast to the fierce heat that scorched Paris outside. Marinette shivered from the sudden temperature shift. With every step they made down the empty halls, the air got cooler, turning from pleasantly refreshing to a shivering ice, her breath swirling into steam before her eyes. 

"Well, this is a horror game just waiting to happen." Chat murmured, cautious with every step. "I'm nearly expecting for the lights to flicker out and a jump scare to happen whilst we stand like idiots, in the dark." 

There was a loud zap, the numerous rows of rectangular LED lights above them suddenly sparking and exploding. Both of them quickly ducked, Chat Noir bringing his Lady close to him, so he could protect her from the glass that flew in every direction. The dismal hallways were quickly shrouded in darkness. 

"Nice one, Chat. You really had to jinx us." Ladybug muttered, thankful her yoyo came with an automatic light setting, shining the way for them to move forward. 

"I have night vision. I could have led the both of us." Chat said lightly. 

"At least with a torch, horror jumps scares are somewhat not as terrifying." 

"Good point. I can only take so much of that game 'Outlast'." 

"And now I'm even more paranoid." Ladybug growled, glaring at him hard. 

Chat gave an apologetic chuckle. 

"Now where's Room L2R171?" she asked her partner, scanning her very discomforting and frigid surroundings. 

"Second Level. Elevators will be out of order with the power outage. We'll take the stairs."  

He led her left, pushing the fire escape door open as they ascended into darkness, the air getting colder and colder by the minute. Marinette began to tremble, her teeth chattering softly as they slowly made there way up the stairs. 

"Ladybug, here."  

Chat Noir had taken off the scarf that had been an extension of his hood, to protect his nose and mouth from the hot air outside. Plagg had made it wider than Chat had anticipated, making it the perfect shawl for his Lady to use. It wasn't much but it was something. Carefully, he wrapped it around his companion. 

"Thank you, Chat Noir. I don't know why it's so cold in here. It should be hot, just like outside, perhaps even hotter, if this is where the akumatised victim is." 

Chat glanced at his baton. "According to the map, we're getting closer and the air around us seems to be getting cooler. More than that, the stairwell is beginning to frost over. So are the stairs, they're becoming icy." 

"Why would an akuma choose to make the inside cold, whilst there's a heatwave outside? Most times, akumatised victims only have one specific power. Stormy Weather had the power to control and manipulate storms. But that's it. She couldn't make a tropical hurricane at the same time she was making a snow storm. This akuma not only has the power to control the weather, but different types at the same time, and with such incredible power. I've never seen anything like it." Ladybug said softly, voice full of concern. She shone her light on the stairwell, both of them now incredibly careful on where they stepped. The concrete stairwell had become icy, a slippery cold slope the ascended and descended into darkness. One wrong footing would be a dangerous tumble. 

"The akuma made a smart choice on keeping the inside cool if they have the power to control two types of weather at the same time. Toast people on the outside whilst stay safe on the inside where it's cool … but this is an ice-box, far from pleasant. Perhaps they physically or mentally control all this power. Considering who our akumatised civilian is, that seems like the most plausible explanation." Chat Noir commented, carefully guiding his Lady up a particularly step, where almost the entire stairwell had been covered in thick block of solid ice. 

"Yeah. I get that." Ladybug took his hand, letting him pull her up as they carefully made there way over jutting blocks of snow and ice. 

"And where is everyone? Where's the staff, the doctors, the security, the patients? This place is deserted. I don't like it." Chat continued. 

"Me either. Maybe everyone evacuated the moment they knew something was wrong." 

Chat Noir could only give Ladybug a skeptical and sad look. "The staff and the doctors yes. The patients, perhaps the ones who have genuinely improved and done some good. The hopeless cases … I'm not so sure." 

Marinette shuddered from the cold and the horrible idea of something far more sinister happening to the people locked away in this awful place. "Where else could they have gone?" 

Both of them paused, finally climbing the icy staircase to the second level. Both of them prepared themselves, Ladybug readying her yoyo, Chat expertly grasping his baton as he prepared himself to push the emergency exit door open to the second floor.  

"We're about to find out." 

Ladybug nodded.  

"On the count of three?" Chat said. 

"Yes." 

 _"One."_ Chat said slowly. 

 _"Two."_ Ladybug murmured. 

Both of them crouched, muscles tensed, ready to strike. 

 _"Three!"_  

And Chat Noir kicked the door open with a hard slam of his foot. 

Both of them were met with a strong icy wind that nearly knocked the both of them backwards over the stairwell railing and all the down to the ground floor. The chill penetrated deep, right to their bones, and they shivered from the freezing cold. The icy air stung their eyes and pricked their skin, both superheroes beginning to lose feeling in their fingers and toes as they quickly brought their hoods up around their heads, keeping trying to keep their faces and heads warm. 

Like the rest of the building, Level 2 was in complete darkness, the entire hallway covered in ice and snow. If it hadn't been for the small window at the end of the hall, barely shining a dim and dismal light on the far end of the hallway, Ladybug would have found herself in a frighteningly cold and pitch black hell, possibly even more dangerous to the sweltering blaze that was cooking Paris outside at that very moment.  

"This is _definitely,_ more than a little bit creepy." Chat muttered, a shiver running down his neck. "Stay close my Lady." 

"Don't have to tell me twice." Ladybug whispered back, walking to into the hallway. "This is really starting to freak me out. We've never had to do anything like this in order to take down an akuma." 

"A haunted hospital ward wasn't something I pictured. And I have night vision. Dark shouldn't bother me- … wait. Did you hear that?" Chat paused, head snapping to the side as he peered into the freezing shadows. 

"N-no. What am I supposed to-" Ladybug began but Chat Noir immediately pulled her behind him, his baton extended in front of him. 

"Shine your light forward, LB. And keep behind me. Someone's here. At the end of the hall, right where we need to be." 

Treading carefully, they made their way through the cold darkness. Marinette could hear nothing but her own heartbeat pounding frantically in her chest, her hands trembling as she held the light that guided them forward. Anxiety and nerves twisted in her stomach. She did her best to ignore them. She tried very hard not to be frightened. 

"I – I hear it now." She whispered, shivering at the horrible sound that echoed in the dark hallway of ice and snow. Someone was moaning softly, the sound desolate and full of anger and misery. The sound almost sounded sub-human, alien, haunting and the dreadful sound was getting louder and louder, reverberating off the ice walls.  

"This is it." Chat gestured. 

Ladybug shone her light, the faded number of Prison Ward 171 barely showing under the yellow glow of the yoyo. The door was ajar. 

Ladybug sucked in a deep breath, tightening her hold on her yoyo. Chat gulped, tensing his entire body, as he readied himself for a pounce, should he have to protect his Lady. 

"This akuma is incredibly volatile and unstable. She'll be unpredictable. She could attack us at any moment. Be at the ready, Chat Noir."  

Her partner nodded. "You open the door. I've got your back." 

Ladybug hesitantly, gripped the frost covered handle, the cold sending a shudder through her entire arm from the cold. 

"Ready, Chat?" She whispered. 

"As I'll ever be." He murmured back to her, vivid green cat eyes narrowing.  

Chat Noir had no idea what could be behind that door. This akuma was unlike any other that they had fought. This akuma was dangerous. This akuma had the power to kill without thought, without mercy. And Chat had no doubt, his Lady felt the exact way as he did. Absolutely terrified. 

Ladybug opened the door.  

And both of them gasped in horror at what they saw.  

 

\-----

 

The door shut behind her with a soft click. She gingerly turned on the hallway light and the air conditioning on its highest setting. The hallway was far too stuffy. Finally, she let her bags fall to the ground with a heavy slump, not caring where they landed at her feet. 

Only then did she lean against the wall, her knees buckling from under her as she slowly slid to the floor. She couldn't stop the tears that ran heavily down her face, her breath heaving in heavy pants and she struggled to breathe, weeks of unresolved tension, anxiety, anger and sadness that had never left, suddenly crashing down on her all at once. She didn't cry. She sobbed, her heart breaking as she wept uncontrollably into her hands.  

For several minutes she could do nothing but let the misery consumer her, as she shuddered against the wall, alone and full of regret with how things had gone. And deep down, Alya knew it was all her fault. She had made him angry. She had caused him to lash out at her and he had every right to. And now she was shutting him out. She made no attempt to talk through their problems, she never shared secrets with him. Granted he never shared anything either but that wasn't the point. She couldn't communicate with him. And when she did, she did it brashly. She was stubborn, never calm or collected like her friend, Marinette. She was far too proud to admit she was ever in the wrong. She either shouted, yelled and demanded things be done her way, when settling her differences with others. Or she simply turned her head and closed her heart, refusing to let anyone in. In truth, she was terrified. Actions frightened her. Words, terrified her even more. They hurt more than physical punches or slaps to the face ever could. At least those were honest. She could heal from those. Words were wounds that caused scars that never truly healed.  And right now she was hurting. Everything hurt so much. It was if she was suffocating, she couldn't breathe as she struggled through her sobs. And her heart had completely torn itself in two. There was nothing but deep regret and sadness for how things had turned out between the two of them. And Alya had ruined everything. And she had no idea how to fix it. 

What was worse, Alya was beginning to see just how much of a bloody hypocrite she was. She had screamed at Nino, slapped him across the face when she had discovered the truth for his decision to leave. She had pinned the blame on him, saying it was his fault for choosing not to tell her the truth, saying she would have understood, that she would have listened and accepted him had he just told her everything. Yet, realistically she knew just what she would have done. She knew how she would have reacted. She wouldn't have listened. She would have shut him out, blocked her ears, hardening her heart as she refused to accept the words had he told her. Nino truly didn't deserve someone like her. She was the worst. She had practically blamed Nino for being unable to tell her the truth, for not wanting to communicate when he had decided to leave. No wonder he hadn't wanted to. She had done the exact same thing to him in the three years they had been together. She had done it again to him now, each time more hurtful than the last. She was a hypocrite. A sanctimonious hypocrite and a horrible person. 

Alone on the floor Alya mused about the days when it had been so much easier between her and Nino. They were in high school and completely in love. They were young, naïve, full of a hope. Three years together, then everything ended so abruptly. She hadn't even had the time to say goodbye to him, to let her heart mend when he left Paris. There was only so much sleeping around she could do to fill the empty void inside of her. Yet no one had ever replaced him. And then he came back. She had wanted to be with him. He had agreed. He had wanted it too. And now she had ruined what they could have had. She should have known things weren't going to be the same between the two of them. They were older now. Three years together. Three years apart. They had changed, the both of them. They had become very different people.  

She had thought they had things in common; a large family with younger and much louder siblings. They liked the same food, liked the same music. Nighttime and nightlife in Paris had been their favourite time of the day. Both of them were right handed. Both of them fought strongly for what they believed in. Alya had thought they were perfect for each other. But Nino had been right. They had different dreams, they aspired to do different things. Alya was an intellectual. She loved to learn. Nino struggled and was happier with the simple things in life where as Alya longed for puzzles, mysteries, any chance to prove herself. He had wanted to move outside of Paris, to get away from home. Alya had wanted to stay with her family, get a degree, make something of herself. In truth, she and Nino were two very different people and Alya wondered how the two of them were ever compatible with one another.  

Perhaps she had wanted to fix things too quickly. They never settled their differences, simply opting to go back into each other's lives, letting the regret, unanswered questions and lack of closure between the two of them slowly eat them away, piece by piece. Alya should have known better; things didn't fix themselves magically on their own. She was more steadfast than that. She should have sat down and talked to him. She should have made an attempt to resolve the issues that had manifested between them over the three years they had been apart. Simply ignoring the problem or settling them with enough sex to make her forget all the bad things that had happened, never truly solved the problem. Alya hated the fact that she used sex to help ease her own heartache. With it, Nino didn't need to tell her that he loved her. She never needed to tell him either. Both of them simply knew. But never had they truly communicated with words. 

There was so much room for empty regret and stupid remorse now. Wallowing in self-pity wouldn't solve anything though Alya knew she deserved nothing less. She had cruelly ignored his apprehension, when he had wanted to talk things through. She had been adamant. She had wanted to ignore her problems. Just like a petulant and frightened child, she had been too afraid to talk about things. She hadn't wanted to experience the painful past for a second time. It had almost killed her. She had always wanted to move forward, to forget, to let things bury themselves away. Truth be told, Alya was nothing short of a coward. And now she was hurting. She was not only hurting herself. She had hurt the most important, the most loving and the kindest person she had ever known. 

How could Nino ever forgive her? She had practically ran away from him, shutting him out. How could he ever forgive her for closing her heart on him? Alya wondered if she truly deserved his forgiveness. In his own twisted, warped way, Nino had left because he thought he hadn't been good enough, he wanted her to have a future, to be with someone more worthwhile than he was. Strangely, he had left out of love. He had sacrificed his love, for her happiness. And what had she done? She had ruined everything.  

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" Alya gasped, through her tears, unable to stop as she cried into her arms curling in on herself.  

She was beginning to breathe far too hard. Her head hurt. The pain was too much too bear, everything was coming at her at once, her sadness, stress, and regret, a maelstrom of overwhelming emotions. Her heart thrashed hard against her chest. But she didn't care. She deserved nothing less. The anxiety attacks she hid from the rest of the world, the ones she hated for making her feel so useless and so weak, were nothing to her now. At least, they were nothing to what Nino was probably feeling. 

Unknown to Alya, Nino stood outside, braving the scorching heat. But Nino barely recognised the world that blazed around him. All he could focus on was Alya's tormented cries, her three long miserable years of unresolved pain and betrayal finally revealing itself to him. And Nino's heart could no longer take it, his own tears falling down his cheeks. 

Alya had told him to leave. She had said so in the car. But he didn't. He wouldn't. He wouldn't leave. Not now. He had left before. He had turned his back on her. He had barely survived the three years without having her in his life. 

"I'm not leaving." He said, his voice trembling and breaking with emotion. How he found the courage let alone his voice to speak, still baffled him. 

Alya had shut him out. And he couldn't help but feel that she had hardened his heart because of him. He had turned his back on her, the first time. He had lied to her, hurt her with words that would forever scar her heart. He had hurt her. He had hurt her badly. And now, she had no other way of defending herself from the pain. It was his fault. And he had to fix it. He had to be honest with her. He had to tell her how he felt. Even if she couldn't, he had to be the one to fix things first. 

"I left you once. It was the worse mistake of my entire life." he confessed, forehead pressing against the door.  

"I – I told you. I want to fix things on my own." she sobbed.  

She was breathing too heavily, gasping and Nino's heart clenched with fear. He remembered Alya suffered from anxiety attacks. They were rare occurrences. He had only ever seen them twice when they were going through school. No one knew about them. Not even Marinette or Adrien. She hid behind clsoed doors, away from other people. He had found out by completely accident and Alya had practically pushed him away the first time he discovered her dark secret. But he had refused to leave her side. Alya had always hated them. No. She was ashamed of them. Alya's brazen character, her determined and strong way of dealing with things allowed her to shield herself from harsh words and actions; it was a defence mechanism. But Nino remembered how words truly hurt her. There was only so much she could take before she finally broke down. 

"No!" Nino banged loudly on the door with his fist, yelling at the wooden door that separated him from her. He could hear Alya give a gasp in shock, briefly interrupting her cries. Good. He had her attention. 

"If you're going to find a way to fix this, then so am I. This is a two way deal, Alya! You've no right to shut me out on a relationship that takes two people to make things work. No matter how many times you tell me to leave, no matter how many times you shut me down and tell me you can do things on your own, that's not gonna work! I'm not leaving. I'm staying. I'm going to help you fix things between us. Just like you're going to help me. Neither of us are going to get a choice in the matter. We're going to solve what went wrong. And we're going to do this together!"   

"But – but I've hurt you! I've hurt you so many times. What – what if we can't fix things? What if both of us are just too incompatible to make things work?" 

"Then that's something we figure out together! Not on our own." 

"But if we don't work out together, then -" 

But Nino would have none of it.  

"You told me that it was wrong of me to decide whether or not I was right for you. You know what? You were absolutely right. I didn't have the right to leave you without giving you closure, telling you how I felt and hearing how you felt to. Don't make the same mistake that I did." he pleaded her. 

"I … I hate being uncertain. I'm scared." Alya's voice was no more than a whisper, as she finally admitted the truth. "I'm so scared." 

Nino was stunned, yet his heart warmed. Had he heard her right? Alya was – Alya was talking to him. She was admitting that she was scared, to him.  

"S-so am I." he confessed softly, smiling a little despite the situation and the horrible heat that burned his skin. 

"I don't like getting hurt. It … it hurts to breathe."  

Nino winced, shuddering at the dreadful thought of Alya suffering from her anxiety attacks the moment he left Paris. With no one to help her, no one to hold her as she struggled to see through them. She had told no one. Not even her best friend Marinette. She never wanted to appear weak. But Alya was only human. 

"I know it hurts. But just listen. Listen for a moment. Breathe." He said quietly, urging her to calm down. "No one likes getting hurt. But everyone does at some point, whether they want it to happen or not. It makes us stronger … it brings people closer." 

"How can we fix something so scary?" 

"I don't know. But when things are good, when things are alright, it's the best feeling in the world. I feel like I can do everything. Anything." 

Nino slowly sat back against the door, taking off his cap as he confessed to her. He could hear her move. He could almost picture her mirroring his pose, back against the door, against him as they talked. They were talking, properly, a first for them in three long years, perhaps even longer. 

"It – it's an amazing feeling. Like I'm flying, like … like I'm invincible. That there's certainty. I'm – I'm at my best when I know things are certain. But when things aren't I'm …" 

"Scared?" 

"Yeah."  

"So am I. But that's what makes it beautiful." 

"What?" 

"Being in love. You plan this big future. Have dreams, share things with your other half, your heart. You're certain, you're invincible. You can do anything. Everything's alright since all you need if one another. But when it goes wrong ..." 

"It's like your heart is being ripped out. You're empty. You can't breathe. You don't care what happens." 

"The days feel like they merge together. They become so long." 

"Unlike the times when you're happy? The days are just too short. As are the nights." 

"Pretty much." 

"How can something so terrifying be so beautiful." 

"Because uncertainty is a good thing. You never know what's gonna happen. So you do everything in your power to make things right, to make each other happy, to feel and to love and be loved in return. And everything seems so worth while in the end. It's scary, yeah. But in a good kind of way." 

"I … what if … there are so many what if's." she murmured. 

Alya's breathing had quietened. She was completely absorbed by their conversation. Nino continued, wanting her to forget the pain she had put herself through. 

He leaned his head against the door. "I know. That's the scariest part. That's why people talk to each other. We let each other know how we feel. We can't keep our doubts and insecurities bottled up on the inside. There's only so much people can take, before it all goes pear shaped." 

"I don't … I mean – what if that one person doesn't want the other to worry? What if they don't want them to get hurt because of their own problems?" 

He gave a gentle laugh. "Believe me. There are times when not telling the person only hurts them more. You make them worry. It's best to be honest no matter how we feel, no matter the consequences." 

"Is it?" 

Nino paused for a moment. Then he gave a slight smile, finally laying his heart bare.  

"You know, I fell in love with this girl. You remind me of her. Very much like you." Nino had only ever loved one woman in his entire life. "I'm still in love with her. So in love with her. But things went wrong between us." 

He could her Alya's voice catch in her throat. 

"What happened between the two of you?" she whispered. 

Ninp gave a slight shrug. "Honestly, both of us are to blame. And the more that I think about it, I believe both of us were just too concerned with hurting each other that both of us did things out of fear, thinking it was for the best. In the end, we should have just talked things out, communicated … like we're doing now." 

"W-what did she do to hurt you?" 

"She hurt me by simply being who she was. And that's something I can't find fault in." 

"Huh?" 

Nino gave a smile, feeling the sweat run down his forehead. "She, well, she won't admit it. Please don't tell her I said any of this to you but she's actually really sensitive. More than she likes to believe." 

"I am no-! I mean … um, she can't be as sensitive as you might think." 

"She's stubborn too. Incredibly so. Brash, headstrong and brave. All because she's sensitive. She's up for a fight. She can handle a punch. But words … on the outside she brushes them off. But on the inside, she lets them eat her away inside, letting the pain hurt her without letting go. Instead of asking anyone for help, she's scared that it will make her appear weak, considering how often she pretends to be confident and uncaring, well, at least she tries to be. And she bears that pain all on her own. She does 'cus she thinks doing so won't bother anyone, that it will cause less trouble than it's worth. But I worry. I worry about her all the time." 

"R-really." 

"Yeah. She hurt me by shutting me out. And she hurt me badly because she did. She didn't want to hear anymore that might hurt her … I can hate her for shutting me out, for hurting me. But I can't find it in my heart to blame her for that too." 

"Why not? She's the one that's not being honest with you. She sounds so hypocritcal! You said this was a two way game. How can you be so … so … forgiving. Understandable?" 

"Because she forgave me. Because she took me back, after I hurt her in the worst possible way." 

He could hear Alya freeze behind the door. He could see her eyes in his head, widen with alarm, going a bright and beautiful hazel behind her glasses. He could see her lovely, perfect face, framed behind soft wild locks of reddish-brown. 

"What did you do to make her hurt you back?" 

"I did something terrible and it's something I have to live with for the rest of my life. And she still forgave me." 

"What did you do?" 

"I lied to her. Then I left. I told her that I hated her. That I never ever loved her. When in truth, there's no person on this earth I would happily spend the rest of my life with. She's the only one for me. I mean - I did have this awkward crush on her best friend once ..." he added jokingly and she could hear her give a soft giggle. "But in truth – I've only ever seen her. There's only ever been her. There will only be her." 

Alya said nothing at first. And then she gave a shuddering sigh.  

"Wow." 

"Yeah." 

"I never imagined someone could be so in love with another despite everything's that happened between you and her. You sound … so in love with this girl, regardless the things she's done to you." 

"I am. It drives me crazy that I am. She drives me insane, twists me the wrong way so often. But I can't help it. I'm so in love with her that sometime's there's nothing and no one else in the world but her." 

"She's – she's a lucky girl." 

"Lucky, with me? Nah. I just hope despite with what's happened between me and her, she'll take me back. That she finally understands how I feel and that I want to make this work. The one who'll be the luckiest out of the two of them will be me. But what about you?" Nino asked hesitantly. 

"Hmmm?" 

"Anyone special in your life?" 

"He's the biggest idiot I've ever met." Alya said flatly.  

And Nino flinched. 

"He's such an idiot. The biggest dork. He's so fucking annoying. What's worse, despite everything that's happened, regardless on how scared I am, no matter how what he's done to make me hate his bloody guts most of the time … I want nothing more for him to hold me again. He's the most amazing and extraordinary man I've ever met, that I've ever loved."  

Nino heard those words, and he felt his heart slowly mend as it ached, his mouth falling open slightly with shock. 

"Then why don't you?" 

"The girl you're in love with. She's not perfect. I know because she reminds me so much of myself. She's tried to be. She's tried to … change, for you. But she's really this ordinary girl who pretends she knows everything. She has to fake being brave. She's hurt you too much. She's obsessed with things that get her in trouble, things she knows will hurt you, that you're very against her doing. She's so … she's not a good person. She-" she protested and he could hear her tears once more. 

"She doesn't see what I see. She sees imperfection. I see the girl I want to be with for the rest of my life no matter what she does or how she thinks. Despite everything she does to make my blood boil, I'll still love her. 'Cus underneath all that, I know she's hurting, that she really wants to make me happy, to make thinks better. That's why I'm so in love with her. Because she tries. And one day, I hope to show her how I see her. How I've always seen her." He said softly, voice full of conviction.  

He could hear her processing the words, he could hear her surprise, the soft gasp of disbelief. Then she spoke again. 

"You know – the man in my … um … her life, that is?. This man, he was her first. First kiss … first love … first, well … you know." Alya murmured, her voice sheepish. 

This time, it was Nino who has taken back by this new revelation.  

"I – wait … I thought … didn't you say – well, this girl told me that she had kissed Kim before the guy she was with?"  

She gave a soft laugh. "She asked Kim to cover for her. Gave him 20 Euros to lie. She wanted to appear confident in front of him, that she knew what she was doing. She wanted to be – I don't know … 'cool', I guess. He's kept that secret ever since. Guess she should tell him there's no use hiding it anymore." 

"So – first kiss?" Nino said, absolute awed. 

"Yeah. Her first. Her very first." 

"You, um … well, she must have practiced." 

"With her hand … it was awkward to say the least." 

He gave a soft laugh, one which she returned. He could only imagine her fifteen year old self trying to figure out the logistics of two sets of lips coming in contact with one another. 

"First night with him?" he whispered. He treasured the memory, that evening in his house. Both of them naïve, both of them just sixteen when it happened. The night had been unexpected, awkward, absolutely perfect. 

"She was scared. She couldn't hide it. She was really embarrassed. He laughed at her. He laughed at _me._ He laughed at my embarrassment. But he still held me. Held me when it happened. They told me it would hurt. It did. And still he held me, even when I cried a little. He held me, kissed me, told me everything was going to be okay. It wasn't. It was more. It was perfect. He was perfect. He still is. And I'm still so in love with him. I treasure that memory, always." 

"Why not go after this guy, if you're so in love with him?" 

"I – I've always been afraid that he'd never want me back. I've hurt him too many times, disappointed him, which is the worst thing I could do. And – well, after he left, I slept around a bit. It was – it was the only way to fill that horrible empty void when he left me behind." 

"He shouldn't have left you." Nino whispered, clenching his hands at his sides. 

"I hated him at first. But the more I think about, I've come to realise, he really did love me, since he did it for me. He always had, just, he hurt me in the process of loving me. Weird, huh?" 

"Yeah." 

"Relationships are complicated." 

"Very. But I don't expect them to be perfect." 

"I guess that they're not supposed to." 

"I just hope the girl I still love wants me back." 

"And I hope the boy I think I've been in love with all my life, wants me back too. I don't think there's anyone I've known I could love more than him. All I want to do is make things right. To let him know how … how sorry I am for everything." 

Nino's heart soared. "Well – if it's any consolation. I want to tell her that I'm sorry too. Maybe after that, we could start from the beginning. Properly. I think we rushed into getting back together. We never really talked about the things that happened. What do you think?" 

"I … yeah. I agree. But if that were to happen with me and this other guy … I think I might fall in love with him even more. Not sure my heart can take it." 

"Mine too – but I'm more than willing to make things work if she is." 

"Same." 

"Really?" 

"Yes. If there's one thing I'm certain I want to happen between myself and him … it's to say sorry and fix things." she whispered, knowing full well he could hear her. 

"I'm, I'm so happy that you want that." 

"Me too – with this girl you're in love with." 

"You know what my heart might not be able to take?" he added thoughtfully. 

"What?" 

"Being even more in love her later in the future. Or less, depending on the circumstances and on how much she shouts and screams at me when she ends up in hospital. Though, I won't blame her when the time comes – she'll have every right to." 

She scoffed. "What does that mean?! How does that make any sense? Why would she be in hospital?" 

"Well, I'm not gonna lie but she's always had a great body. Like … wow – she's a goddess. She's downright sexy! But I wouldn't mind seeing her with bigger boobs, gain a couple of cup sizes, and see her have wider hips." 

"Pffft! In your dreams." 

"No really. This is a dream I really hope will come true." 

"You want her to be a friggen walrus?" 

"She'd have to gain a few more pounds. Considering she'll be much fatter and rounder, should it happen." 

"When on earth will this woman you love so much ever consider on making herself as fat as a whale? Her breasts are big enough as it is, bordering on C-cup. Why would you want to hold someone like that?" 

"I'm more than certain she'll change her mind when she finds herself holding her own stomach. I bet I'll catch her singing softly to it, as she holds her rounded tummy, telling stories about what she's done, little things like that. She'll be so beautiful when my dream comes true. I don't know who I'll love more. Her? Or that special someone she'll cradle in her arms and sing to every night when they'll finally arrive." 

"Who would I be singing t-" but Alya never finished her sentence.  

Instead she gasped, realisation dawning on her face. Had Nino just – had he just said he wanted to start a family, to have children … with her? Against the door, her hands unconsciously moved to the flat planes of her abdomen, and she looked down. She could almost picture her stomach round, the skin taught and smooth, a strange longing in her heart to feel the soft kicks, to have Nino hold her from behind as she guided his hands so he could also feel their future move inside her. 

"W-wait! You mean you … ?" she dared to asked voice hesitant. 

"Yeah. I do." Nino said honestly, his voice gentle, scared, full of hope.  

"I - … wow. Um. T-that's a ... well, it's s-surprising. And s-strangely a ... well ... a wonderful i-idea." she stammered, smiling when she heard Nino's breath hitch, hopeful. 

"Really? You – you don't think she'll mind?" 

"No. I – I think you'd be s-surprised with her reaction. I think she'd be surprised by the suggestion but I know she'll quickly warm up to the idea. It's … it's a n-nice thought." 

"I know she's gonna do great things in her life. And I've no doubt that one day she's going to be a great mom. They'll love her so much, perhaps even more than me." Nino gave a light laugh. 

Alya's heart clenched, the beautiful dream of kissing beautiful children goodnight so … real. She had never ever considered the possibility of herself as a mother. But now, the very thought of starting a family one day, with him … it was a dream she only wanted to come true. 

"She's … she still needs to get used to the idea." Alya began cautiously. "It will take a while. I mean … her parents will-" 

Nino laughed. "Don't worry. This is a dream set in the far future. I won't get her pregnant at twenty-one. Not with parents like hers. I like having my testicles between my thighs. Not in my mouth." 

Alya couldn't help it. Through her tears she laughed. She couldn't stop. She laughed so hard, her heart suddenly light, her body warm. And soon, he joined her, his laughter full of mirth. She was happy. So was he. They were both happy as they laughed with relief, warmth and simple glee, the moment so perfect. 

When they're laughter finally receded, she knew in her heart that things were going to be difficult. She was frightened. But deep down, she knew things would be okay if they did this. They would argue, they would shut each other out on occasion, they would fight. But it would be alright. Because being together meant accepting the bad things as well as the good. She could deal with that. The man she loved so much wanted to have a future with her … no, he wanted to start a future with her. Maybe a little later, she wasn't sure if she could deal with her parents finding out about an unexpected grandchild. But it was still her future. And she wasn't going to let that go. She wasn't going to let _him_ go. 

Abruptly she stood up. And she opened the door. The horrible heat knocked her back and she flinched, horrified to think he had been bearing the heat for all that time. 

Nino fell backwards, head smacking on to the hallway floor.  

"Shit! Ouch! That hurt!" he swore, clutching the back of his head. 

"You'll live. I'll get you something to drink." she muttered, heading into the kitchen. She left her bags where they were. 

She didn't need to turn her head to hear him follow close behind her, shutting the door as he did. 

She reached to get a glass but Nino stopped her, wrapping his arms around her waist. He felt hot and sweaty against her but she didn't care as he snuggled against her. She shivered when she felt him brush his lips against her neck, and she leaned into his warm touch. 

Neither of them said anything. How long had it been since the two of them simply held each other, hugged? It had been too long. It felt like coming home. This was where she belonged. In his arms. 

"You know. Things aren't going to just fix like that. Not after one conversation." she said. 

"I know." he sighed. "I just needed to hold you again. But it's gonna take a lot more communication, a lot of patience, a lot of time. But I'm more than willing to give it my all if you are." 

"I – I don't know what's gonna happen to us. The uncertainty scares me. It scares me more than it should." Alya admitted, turning to face him. 

"It scares me too."  

"But I'm willing to give it a try. I mean … only if you forgive me."  

Nino gave a smile, reaching up to brush his fingers against her cheek.  

"I forgave you a long time ago. What about you?" 

"I forgive you. I just – I just don't know if I'll ever forgive myself." 

"Neither can I, forgive myself for hurting you that is. But that's something we can both work on together, in the future. We have all the time in the world you know." 

"Together." she murmured, hazel eyes beautiful and full of hope. 

"Together." he smiled, chocolate brown eyes melting with relief and love for the woman before him. 

"Just us. I like that." 

"For now at least." he shrugged, though his smile was impish. 

"If my parents discover you've knocked me up at twenty-one, prepare for me to be disowned, and the great possibility that you won't be able to give this child of ours siblings." 

"He he! Don't worry. I remember distinctly what you're parents told me when we finally revealed that we had started sleeping toge- … wait … siblings?!" Nino squeaked eyes widening behind his glasses. 

Alya gave a grin, stroking the dark stubble that had begun to form around his chiseled jaw. 

"Knowing how much we fuck, siblings are gonna be a given. I'm thinking a daughter first, then a boy." 

Nino grinned. "Two boys! And maybe another son after a couple of years!" 

She rolled her eyes. "Don't you even think about it. We are not filling the house with only dicks such as yourself." 

"Fine, one token daughter. Just for you. But I get to name her." 

"We are not calling her Bethany!" 

"Bethany is a pretty name!" 

She crossed her arms. "No! We're naming her something nice and _modern,_ okay." 

Nino raised an eyebrow. "You do realise we're already thinking about having kids and we've barely made up yet." 

"You're the one that said relationships are uncertain, that they're unpredictable. Is there a set schedule or to-do list we have to follow?" 

"Well, 'making-up-I'm-so-sorry-passionate-sex' is the usual way to go." 

"Why do I get the feeling this is merely practice for our parent's future grandchildren?" Alya groaned but she couldn't help but grin, her boyfriend's eyes full of mischief. 

"Because it is. Though I fear the day our children will ask how they were brought into this world." 

"We are procreating in a bed. Not against the wall or on the kitchen counter-top!"  

"I was gonna suggest the public swimming pool or one of the changing rooms at the shopping centre but-" Nino began but Alya gave him a light whack across his chest. 

"Careful or they'll be no 'practice-sex' for you." 

"Okay – how about the shower? At least we get clean and that's fairly romantic." he compromised. 

"Kiss me first and then we have sex in the shower?" she asked. 

"I can deal with that." Nino grinned tightly, a grin which Alya returned, before she found herself being pulled against the hard planes of his chest, her lips moulding against his. 

Alya smiled into the kiss, feeling the tears fall from her eyes once more but she wasn't sad. Not anymore. In fact, she had never been happier. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! A new chapter! Sorry that writing is slow but it's difficult finding the time to write chapters with my parents here for Christmas and New Years holidays. But thankfully we have some DJWifi action. I always give these two heart ache, more so than my wonderful 'love square'. 
> 
> I've given you an exceedingly long chapter, since I can't update nearly as frequently as I'd like to. It only seems fair to give you more content since all of you are waiting for more. I'll start regulating my chapter sizes again once I find the time to write. I'll keep writing long chapters until then. Anyways! Enjoy! xoxoxo


	35. Victims - Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This fanfiction is now rated Mature, thus is suitable for 'mature' audiences.

The entire prison room had been frosted over, icicles hanging precariously from the ceiling. The snow that flurried ice cold against their skin, came up past their ankles. Any wrong move or sudden shock, they would come falling down, their points sharp and strong enough, to pierce through their skin. The tiny barred window letting in a dismal light, illuminating the wintery cell with a dismal light. There was only one bed, with a dirty and stain covered mattress. And on top of that mattress, the akumatised victim, Marie Dubois. Her knees had been tucked under her chin, her long unkempt hair, hiding her gaunt white face, as she rocked too and fro, moaning and cursing unintelligible words. Yet her 'rocking' movements had were paused midway, frozen and suspended in time. She lay dormant and still, completely encased in solid crystal ice. 

"Oh my god!" Marienette whispered, in complete horror, her yoyo falling into the snow at her feet. "What could have happened to cause this?!" 

"My Lady! Use your yoyo to cut through the ice. We have to get the victim out before they die!" Chat said quickly, rushing over the victim. 

"No! Chat, wait!" she tried to stop him, snapping out of her trance but it was too late. The moment Chat made an attempt to rescue their victim, his extended claws coming in contact with the ice crystal, there was a sudden wave of power, painful and strong, which sent them hurling backwards into the iced concrete walls.  

Despite the pain that ran through her body from the hard slamming impact, Ladybug froze, stopping Chat from moving another inch. Her heart stopped in her chest, as she watched the icicles above her head shake from the sudden force that had sent them backwards, the soft sound of cracking causing the hairs on the back of her neck to rise. When several sharp shards fell from the ceiling, falling and impaling the snowy floor, with a heavy slice, she heard Chat gulp. It was only then she realised with horror that the icicles that had fallen were quickly replaced by newer ones, larger, sharper, and ready to fall. 

"No sudden moves, Chat. One wrong step and anything that might spark anger within the akumatised victim will cause those icicles to fall on top of us." She warned quietly. 

"Then what can we do, Ladybug? I can sense that Marie is barely alive. The akuma is what's keeping her so, that way she can withstand the cold. We have to get her out, now." Chat begged.  

Time was of the essence. Chat had never been in a situation where the one that they had needed to save could possibly die. He had never been responsible for another civilian's death. Or multiple civilian deaths or that matter. And it was a guilt and pain, he had no desire to experience. Chat had come to terms with his powerful destructive burden of cataclysm and the uncanny bad luck of a black cat. And Chat Noir refused to have the blood of innocents and akumatised victims on his hands, added to that that list. 

"I know, Chat. We can help her. We won't let her die." his Lady said resolutely. "First we need to find a way to get past those icicles." 

"I could try my cataclysm. But it won't work for long, she's controlling them. They'll just grow back." 

"If we can get past them without making them fall, tread carefully or something, and not touch her upon reaching where we need to be, we should be safe. We have to do this carefully or -" 

 _It's your fault! It's all your fault! And now he's gone._  

Both heroes shuddered as they turned their heads warily at the encased akuma. Her voice was an inhumane and haunting groan, the sound of death itself. She was still frozen, suspended in a dormant and silent cold space of time. Yet she was still alive, conscious, although barely, her moans terrifying, tragic and tortured.  

"We – we're here to help you." Ladybug began hesitantly. "Please. Let us help you." 

Chat didn't miss the fact his Lady had not asked why the victim was hurting so many civilians, as well as Paris itself. Nor had she warned the akuma of the consequences should she choose not to listen and surrender quietly. Her pain for losing her son was understandable enough. But never had they dealt with someone that was as unstable or as volatile as her. Neither had experience in choosing let alone knowing the right words to say when conversing with someone who wasn't 'quite right' in the head. One wrong word would be the potential catalyst that brought her entire wrath down on them as well as the lives of many innocents. His Lady had to be careful. _He_ had to be careful. 

"We only want to help you. You'll die if you stay inside of that thing. Please. Allow us to free you." Ladybug took a cautious step forward but when another wave, smaller than the other but still just as powerful, caused the dagger like crystals above their heads to rock and shake dangerously. Ladybug froze on the spot in fear, her jumping heart in her throat.  

 _Help! People like you don't help! You didn't help my son! You didn't help me! You blamed him. Everyone in the world was against us! And now he's gone!_  

"We help people. It's our job. It's what we do. And you need our help! Please!" Ladybug pleaded. 

 _Job! Hah! What are you_ _superheroes_ _?! BAH!_  

"Yes! I'm Ladybug. And this is Chat Noir. We're superheroes. That's what we do – we help those in need, like yourself." 

 _"And w_ _hat can you do_ _,_ _to help me? Can you bring my son back? Can you turn back the time and make everything that's happened to me, disappear?! I don't think so! You're useless! You think you're so great,_ _so perfect,_ _thinking you can save me. You're only saving yourself, to make yourself look good,_ _so that you're always seen as the better p_ _erson_ _. You only 'help' people_ _t_ _o make yourself feel good so you don't feel like you're at fault!_  

Ladybug's eyes went wide, and she gasped in shock.  

"That – that's not true-" she began to protest but she was quickly cut off by wailing tormented cries and the icy howling flurry of wind and snow. 

 _That flood! I caused it! So many people got hurt! I had the power to do everything! You say you're a superhero?_ _But where_ _were_ _you when I was making that flood?!_ _Where_ _were you when other's_ _needed_ _you?_  

"I – I didn't know! How could I .. we know that-" 

 _Where were you when my son needed you?! When I needed you?! Y_ _ou're no hero ..._ _Y_ _ou're nothing! You're nothing but a failure!_ _You're nothing but a joke!_  

Every word slowly cut the red and black-spotted heroin, like a razor shard of glass that pierced her deeply. The akuma … she was right. She could have helped people. She could have prevented the crisis and saved people from the pain. She could have saved her parents from the pain! But she didn't. She had done nothing. And the truth had never been more painful. She was a failure.  

Chat Noir found himself snarling at the cruel taunts, his clawed gloves gripping at his baton. All he could see was red; fury coursing through his entire frame like a current of electricity. How dare she say those things to his Lady?! She knew nothing about him and she certainly knew nothing about Ladybug! 

"Don't you dare say another word about my Lady! You don't know anything about her and what she truly is like and what she stands for in this city!" Chat roared. 

Extending his baton against the ceiling, he swiped the precariously hanging icicles, causing them to smash on impact, thousands of tiny crystal pieces exploding from the impact. Marie gave a shriek of rage, blasting them backwards with a flurry of snow and ice cold wind, the power of the blast knocking them off their feet and pushing them against the wall. 

His Lady gave a scream, ducking from the snowy assault, and he pushed her behind him, using his body to shield her from the blizzard. Chat winced in pain, gritting his teeth and fangs as he struggled to battle the cold ice that hit against him hard and painful, like thousands of needles biting his skin. But he paid no heed to his own torment. He would see this through, for Ladybug; for himself. That woman had hurt and insulted his Lady with the worst and cruelest of lies. And that was enough for the black-clad feline to ensure that he would prove to the akuma, just how wrong she was. As the painful frigid cold chilled both heroes right to their bones, Chat Noir would not give in to the relentless onslaught of ice and snow. Again and again he continued to swing and smash the icicles with the end of his baton, into pieces, trying to prevent the dagger-like objects from regrowing. Despite the weary exhaustion he was beginning to feel, his muscles seizing and turning stiff from the cold that was freezing his entire body, and ignoring how painful it was to breathe through thick icy air, Chat pursued his task with frenzied determination. He continued to attack at the only objects preventing them from moving forward. It would buy his Lady some time, allowing her to run towards their victim without getting impaled by a solid falling icicle. She would be able to solve things. She would fix things, help people, save the day … like she always did.  

"My Lady! I can only hold of the icicles for so long. I'm going to have to use cataclysm on them. Get to the victim. Use your lucky charm!" 

His Lady who had been silent and still, finally gave a nod, braving the howling cold winds as she stepped out from behind Chat. 

"On the count of three, use your cataclysm. That will allow me time to get me to the other side of the room." 

"Ready when you are, Ladybug." 

"One." 

"Two." 

"Three!" 

Chat Noir lept towards the ceiling, green eyes behind his mask, squinting in concentration, his right hand and claws shrouded in black fiery desctuction. 

Ladybug began to sprint towards the akumatised victim, resisting the blizzard that kept forcing her backwards. Yet she pushed against the storm with all of the strength and determination she had left in her aching and freezing body.  

 _"Cataclysm!"_ Chat Noir growled, his black-shadowed hand brushing against the ice crystal shards. 

" _Lucky Charm!"_ Ladybug whispered, her yoyo glowing in her hand. There was a bright flash of yellow light. And something soft and rectangular dropped into her hands. 

 

\----- 

 

It was a book of small poems. That was her lucky charm. Poetry. How on earth could a poem stop the raging snow storm that raged and chilled the tiny room, as well as the scorching heatwave that threatened Paris, outside? How could poetry help cure the akuma? 

"Chat! What should I do?!" Ladybug screamed, utterly helpless as she cradled the tiny book in her hands, eyes darting back and forth to her lucky charm and their frozen victim, encased in crystal glass. 

"Whatever you decide, better do it fast! I only have a few minutes left before I transform back! And my cataclysm can only keep the icicles at bay for so long." Chat warned, rushing to his Lady's side as he swiped his baton back and forwards in a circular motion, creating a protective shield around them from the onslaught of ice and snow. 

"Umm, okay. Okay. I can do this." Ladybug said to herself, frantically, squinting her eyes and struggled to read the words on the pages. She had a book of poems. Perhaps something could help her. A word perhaps? Maybe a phrase? Which poem, though?! Which poem could help her? There had to be something in here! Anything! A word, a phrase!  

 _You could have helped my beautiful boy! My only son! The only light of my life! And you took him from me!_  

Ladybug screamed as the wind knocked her into Chat, almost dropping the lucky charm and losing it in the thick snow on the floor. She could barely see, the white blizzard stinging her eyes raw with cold. The air was thick and icy, she was struggling to breathe. Her entire body ached, sore and weary. In the blizzard she had lost her sight, she had lost all feeling in her hands and fingers, as she fumbled the pages of the poetry book. And her miraculous beeped. Everything was turning bad. She was running out of time! And she had no idea what to do! But Chat brought her into his arms, holding her close.  

"You can do this Ladybug! _We've got this!_ " Chat screamed through the howling wind, using his entire body to protect her from the storm. 

 _My baby! My son! They took away the only person I loved. You were a gift to me, a perfect gift!_  

Gift. Gift! Wait! Why did that sound familiar? 

 _Rainbows, gingerbreads. You were so perfect my son!_  

Rainbows. Gingerbread. Of course! Ladybug had seen something in the poetry book that had started off in a similar manner.  

"Chat! Shine your baton on the pages! I need to see!" 

"Got it!" 

A glow of light shone on the blurry words and Ladybug struggled to reach the middle of the tiny book, her fingers clumsy and slow. She had seen it. She had seen something … There it was! 

And Ladybug began to read, projecting her voice as loud as she could through the storm. 

 _You filled my days with rainbow lights,_    
_Fairytales and sweet dream nights_  

Her moaning stopped abruptly, as did the ferocity of the blizzard that tore at them. She was listening. Listening to the poem. And Ladybug continued. 

 _A kiss to wipe away my te_ _ars,_    
_Gingerbread to ease my fears_  

Ladybug's voice rang clear, confident, yet soft in the dismal room and it seemed to echo over the flurry and howling wind. The storm began to dissipate with every word, the poem a spell, Ladybug's voice a calming lullaby, crooning the cold to sleep. 

 _You gave the gift of life to me,_    
_And then in love, you set me free_  

Very slowly, the snow storm began to wither away, the wind and the icy particles cutting at their bodies and chilling them right to the bone began to calm and quiet. And the air began to still, the snow and ice began to slowly melt. 

 _I thank you for your tender care,_    
_For deep warm hugs and being there_  

Her cries and despair had stopped. The cat-eyed hero gave a cautious glance at his surroundings, never letting his Lady go. He gave a sigh of relief. The cold was melting. It was beginning to warm. Everything was righting itself again. Ladybug was healing and fixing everything. She was saving the day, just like he knew she would. And Chat had no doubt, everything would soon right itself in the city, outside. 

 _I hope that when you think of me,_    
_A part of you, you'll always see_ _…_  

"That poem … it's by an anonymous author." Ladybug finished quietly. 

"I know." she said, her voice distant. 

"Your son – he loved that poem? It was his favourite?" Ladybug asked, voice soft and hesitant.  

Ladybug looked up from her lucky charm and her heart lifted, as she gave a soft sigh of thanks when the ice around her victim began to slowly melt away, just like the snow and icicles above their heads. Chat felt the tension slowly leaving his body and he perched warily by his Lady, ready to strike with his baton. So far everything seemed safe; things were going to plan. Their victim no longer appeared to be volatile, unpredictable, as she calmed. There was only one more thing to fix. 

A tiny black butterfly fluttered slowly from behind Marie's head, attempting to escape. Odd. Most akumas had to be broken from an inanimate object found on the victim. But Ladybug could worry about that later. Numb, exhausted and relieved, Ladybug caught the akuma with her yoyo, lacking the joy and determination she usually felt when she and Chat saved the day.  

"Time to de-evilize." The akuma was purified. A tiny white butterfly was released. 

Ladybug was far too worn to say it. She could only lean against Chat, who held her with sore, aching but still very careful arms, as he said her signature phrase for her. 

"Bye bye little butterfly." 

His Lady gave a smile, then gave a tired groan, lightly tossing the book of poems into the air. 

 _"Miraculous Ladybug!_ _"_  

There was a familiar burst of light. A beautiful array of swirling rose petals that swept out the tiny window and into the city. Marinette smiled, picturing the city slowly right itself. The hospital was fixed, the staff that had 'mysteriously' disappeared along with their patients were suddenly brought back, all of them gasping in confusion, their memories of what had occurred, completely swiped. She could picture Paris slowly cool, the civilians now safe and healthy, as the heat that had scorched them was absorbed and cured by her lucky charm. Everything was okay now. Everyone was safe. Paris was safe. She and Chat Noir had saved the city once again.  

Red petals slowly fluttered down, and Chat Noir and Ladybug watched their dismal surroundings transform into a clean, pristine ward room, full of light. And on the clean bed, was Marie in a hospital gown, tired, frightened, confused, and saddened from many terrible things. Her dark lank brown hair  obscured most of her face. She huddled against the corner of the bed. 

"I used to say it to him all the time, before he went to bed. It helped him sleep." Marie murmured. 

"It's – it's a beautiful poem." Chat said cautiously. 

She shrugged, tired, defeated.  

"That poem always made him smile. He was such a happy child. Full of life, with such a bright beautiful future. He was my whole world. My only world; the only person worth living for. I would have done anything for him. I loved him so much. Such a beautiful and happy child." 

"W-what happened to him, to make him unhappy?" Ladybug asked, weary.  

She hadn't even heard policemen and hospital staff quietly and cautiously enter the room, ready to take Marie away. Chat nodded to them; a silent order, telling them to wait. His Lady still had just enough time before her Miraculous wore off, as did he. They needed to solve things the right way. 

"My fault. I was always into drugs. And alcohol. Always was a partier. Mixed in with the wrong crowd, the wrong men and it made life exciting. I should have stopped, to give him a better life. I couldn't. He – he started doing the same things as me. And I encouraged it. I was a terrible mother. It was my fault." 

"Marie – you're not to blame for your son's death-" Chat began but he was cut off swiftly. 

"Yes I am. I should have changed, I could have been a better parent for my boy. But I was useless. My son became worse, 'cus he grew up in a bad house. He had no role models. He had me but what kind of mother could I be? I was ruining him. But he was the light of my life, my everything. And I killed him. I turned him into what he was. It's all my fault." 

Ladybug hesitantly took Marie's frail pale hand, still cold from the icy prison she had been kept in. Marie looked up in wary surprise, her dark muddy brown eyes curious yet suspicious. And Ladybug's heart ached. This woman had never known kindness. It wasn't fair. None of this entire thing had been fair. 

"It's alright." she finally said.  

Ladybug didn't say 'it wasn't her fault.' Nor did she say that 'she was sorry' for how things had turned out. She couldn't lie to herself; she had to accept the hard truth that though circumstances had been terrible for Marie and her dead son, her son did lead a dangerous life, which resulted in his death. But that was the past. There was only now, and the future ahead of them. And things were alright. Things had been fixed. It would take time for everything to heal. But things were turning out for the better. All of them could only move forwards, and hope for a safer and happier future. 

"It's alright." Ladybug promised for the final time, bright blue eyes shining with promise. She gave Marie's hand a gentle reassuring squeeze. Chat also gave the victim a warm smile, nodding in agreement. 

And for the first time, for what seemed like ages, Marie Dubois smiled. 

 _Beep, beep_ _,_ _beep_ _!_  

Ladybug sighed. Chat gave a groan, turning to the police officers, telling them to take care of Marie, and to do so 'gently'. 

"We have to split. I wanted to -" Chat Noir began but his Lady held of a red and black spotted hand. 

"I know. We still need to talk. Meet me in half an hour; on top of the Eiffel Tower." 

Chat smiled, bowing low. "Until then my Lady."  

And the two of them sprinted out the door, heading in opposite directions, as their Miraculous wore off. 

\----- 

The world had healed outside. The sun was shining, not burning the city in baking heat. The sky was a clear perfect blue. Paris had been fixed from that dreaded heatwave. And Alya couldn't care less. She had been far too preoccupied with other activities. 

Alya was still panting, attempting to catch her breath. Her head, beaded with sweat, lay quietly against the hard and chiseled planes of Nino's warm chest, and she gave a soft happy sigh, listening to his heartbeat. She could feel it match her own. 

"That was - " she gasped. 

"Intense. Fun. Needed. Incredible.' he offered. 

"Pretty much. I'm really sore but … that was … well … really good." she finally admitted softly. 

He laughed softly, his fingertips lightly stroking through the silky thick strands of her dark reddish hair. 

"Hmmm. If I remember you never admit how good I fuck you. You're always too embarrassed." 

"Shut up!" Alya said without any real malice behind her words. Naturally, an embarrassed flush tinted her cheeks.  

She could practically envision just how smug her boyfriend's handsome face was, the smirk gracing his perfect lips, as his brown eyes glinted with mischief.  

"The fact that Alya Césaire is practically confessing that I fucked her to oblivion means I must have done a pretty decent job, if I do say so myself." 

"Stop being such a smug bastard. It's unbecoming." 

"Hey, don't ruin the moment. Having my girlfriend admit I'm a sex god is pretty good for my ego." 

"What else did you want me to say? That you're terrible? That you suck?" 

"One, you're the one that does the sucking around here. My mouth's all about the worshiping. And two … so you _are_ saying that I'm a sex god." 

Alya gave a groan. "I – okay. Yes. My boyfriend really knows how to get me off in bed … or in the shower, or against the wall, or anywhere for that matter." 

Nino gave a smirk. "Was that so hard?" 

"Not really. But you are … well for most of the time." 

"I aim to please. I should totally write a song about this." 

"About your skills in bed? That will be a number one hit." 

"A guy can dream." 

"You know, if your job as a DJ should go pear shaped, you should be a sex therapist." she joked, though she wasn't serious. 

"You mean those people on those weird creepy-ass xxx videos that practically demonstrate how to make a woman cum … Damn! I should have thought of that. The money I could get from that. Mixing business with pleasure." Nino gave a low whistle, his voice mocking and gentle. 

"Get the best of both worlds." 

"Providing it's you I'd be demonstrating on. Two-way relationship remember. I, for one, have very high standards. I'm incredibly particular about my sex partners in the porn-vids I do." Nino grinned, gently urging Alya's face up so he could look at her beautiful face. He lightly traced her features, stroking her cheek.  

"I mean, after all – I'm the one who knows all of your sweet spots." 

Alya blushed a bright red at the heated memory of the two of them in the shower, Nino's tongue alone having given her two very powerful orgasms in the expanse of a minute.  

"Um – that … that I can't deny." 

"Bet the others weren't nearly as good as me."  

It hadn't meant to be an accusation, nor was he putting her on the spot. He traced his thumb across her lower lip, assuring her that he wouldn't be hurt by her answer, as he gazed into hesitant eyes, ashamed from her past rendevous. 

"The others I – never … I never really paid attention, when it happened. And if I had, well … it was just sex, a way to find a bed to sleep in for the night. But with you … It's always so much more. It always will me more." Alya answered him, her voice soft and uncertain, she was still very shy and unused to communicating with him, revealing all of her insecurities, wants and desires that she felt. 

Nino smiled, kissing her softly, a kiss which he returned. 

"Well that's a relief." He murmured against her lips when they finally parted but his forehead still touched hers. 

"How so?" 

"The romantic answer or the truth?" 

She gave him a look. "Romantic first, the truth, second." 

"I'm relieved and so happy that whever we're like this together, intimate or otherwise. Like you said, it feels so much more; that it feels. That's it. That's why I love you so much." 

Alya gave a shy smile. "Yeah. It feels. I love you too." 

Nino returned the smile, lightly bopping her nose. 

"Now what's the 'truth'?" 

"I mean, think about it. Should I give up being a DJ, with the number of orgasms I'd be able to give you in only three minutes, if we ever sign ourselves up to be porn stars in those xxx sex therapy videos … We'd make billions! Well, I'd make billions for us, whilst I worked my magic on you." He gave a tight grin as he watched that lovely perfect face of hers go bright red once more. She smacked his chest playfully, utterly mortified. 

"I was joking when I said that. We are not gonna become porn stars! What would our kids think of us?!" 

"That we enjoy demonstrating just how much we love each other, and ensuring each other's happiness?" 

"You're terrible!" 

"And you'll be an amazing mom. That I do know." Nino's voice was teasing but his eyes were nothing but affectionate. And Alya would be an amazing mother. She was wonderful with children, she always knew what to do, and how to act. And she was incredibly protective over her younger siblings; Nino knowing she would fight to the death if it meant ensuring their happiness. Nino could only imagine what she would be like with their own children. 

"I – you think so. I mean, I'm kinda brash." 

"Brash, strong, determined, understanding, inspirational … fierce when it comes to protecting and keeping others safe and happy. Everything a mom should be."  

Alya sighed in defeat. How could he do and say things like that to make her heart flutter and skip delightfully in her chest? How could he be so romantic and tender, whilst at the same time be  the absolute worse? Alya had been somewhat pleasantly surprised to learn when they were sixteen, Nino had secretly become more sexually depraved than she was and that was saying something! 

"And me!" she challenged him, "What would I be doing in these porn vids of yours? You can't seriously expect me to have me simply lying there with my legs spread open whilst your hands are … well … doing things." 

"But of course, all you'd need to do is simply enjoy yourself. Leave me to do the rest. I know your body so well now that it's so easy to make you squi-" Nino started but Alya quickly clamped a hand over his mouth. 

"Don't finish that sentence!" Alya shrieked. Okay. That was pushing it! 

"What?" he said, voice muffled by her hand, "I can't believe you're still embarrassed about that - how should I say this … 'discovery', I made. And it's not like your body can help it." Nino gave and uncommitted shrug. 

"I hate you so much, you tit." Alya gave a low groan, collapsing on his chest once more and she felt him laugh, his chest rumbling from the action. 

"I hate you more, wench." Nino lightly kissed the hand covering his mouth before he brought Alya's face up towards him once more, to kiss her lips. She gave a growl of frustration but it wasn't long before they were drinking and gasping into each other's mouths, their tongues rubbing and stroking in a familiar dance. All the while, both of their bodies began to fuel with heated familiar desire, stirring restlessly in their lower abdomens, Alya's core begin to dampen with need and she felt Nino's own arousal begin to harden and swell against the inside of her thighs. 

They pulled away from each other breathless, Nino's eyes were dark with newfound lust.  

"Wanna go for another round?" 

"Easy tiger. We've already had three rounds, today. Don't think my nether regions can take another hard fucking." she chuckled, though she couldn't deny she also wanted this, that she wanted _him_. 

"Who said anything about fucking? I was contemplating on the wonderful notion 'making love' to you?" 

Alya pondered for a moment. "Hmmm – I'm up for that. Any particular location preference?" 

"The floor? I can put a pillow behind your head." 

"Sounds like a plan." 

And Nino quickly captured Alya's lips once more.  

 

\----- 

 

Marinette could only stare helplessly and horrified realisation, as she stood on one of the many roofs surrounding her apartment, her transformation wearing off. 

Tiki flitted to her side, quickly realising what distressed her chosen so. _Oh no! Oh no, no no! Why?! Why hadn't lucky charm worked?! It should have! It had fixed the dreadful events from the heatwave. Why not this_ _, too_ _?_  Despite her exhaustion and desperate need for energy, the tiny red kwami urged Marinette to look at her, taking her cheek. But Marinette had frozen still. 

"Marinette! Please! How could you have known?! It's not your fault! None of this was your fault! Please Marinette!" Tiki begged but soon she was rendered helpless when tears began to drip down the side's of her chosen's cheeks. 

"I – I could have st-stopped it! I could have -" Marinette whispered, sinking to her knees, as she gazed in despair at her home. 

Her lucky charm had healed Paris. But it had not cured the akuma attack from three weeks ago. Her parent's bakery, her beloved home, was still boarded up in wood, unfinished and under construction from funds and loans that the Dupain-Cheng's could barely afford to pay back.  

The flood had been her fault. Everything that had happened that dreadful night still burned into her memory, had been _her_ fault. 

 

\----- 

 

Chat paced up and down the railing of the Eiffel Tower, balancing precariously, but the massive height and drop didn't not bother him. He had the reflexes of a cat after all. Plagg had needed a great deal of cheese and water to recharge but for once he was more than happy to supply his kwami, the Camembert he needed. Plagg had did good; he had helped him despite the danger and the bleak consequences. 

His Lady would arrive any moment now. During the time he had waited, he had finally come up with the perfect way to confess to Ladybug that he had fallen in love with another woman. Chat Noir was nervous to say the least and incredibly guilt ridden. He sincerely hoped that his Lady wouldn't mind. It wasn't as if his Lady had ever been 'interested' in him to say the least. He knew his Lady loved him with all her heart; but he had come to accept that she was never going to be _in_ love with him. There was a difference to the two and Chat had resigned himself to loving Ladybug from afar. He knew Plagg was right. Loving Ladybug like this; enamored and admiring her from a distance wasn't the right way to love someone. He wasn't certain if he was 'loving' Marinette the right way, but there was something different about it. His love for Marinette was certainly stronger, more binding, they had shared and revealed sides of themselves that even Chat wouldn't dare to show his Lady. And he loved everything Marinette had to offer; her spicy, gentle, kind and incredibly unassuming personality. And he would willingly accept her fears, wants, desires and dreams, loving the bad that came with the good. Chat sighed. There was no other way. He had promised to be honest with Marinette, to give her everything and more. And that meant being honest with ladybug. Despite his fears, he knew Marinette would want him to extend that same honesty to others that he cared about. She was just that kind of person; earnest, honest, sweet and heart-warming. How could he deny her that, when all that she did made him strive to be a better person? He would tell his Lady the truth. 

He heard her land quietly behind him. Chat took a deep breath. It was now or never. 

"My Lady. Thank you for taking the time to see me but I need to- … Ladybug?!"  

Chat turned to face his Lady. And green cat eyes went wide with dismay, his mouth falling open. His Lady's eyes, usually bright blue like the sky, were glossy and red. Her face was flushed, feverish and full of misery and guilt. His Lady had been crying. 

"LB! What's wrong? What happened?" Chat asked, quickly taking his partner into his arms. Ladybug didn't flinch, nor did she pull away. Instead, she welcomed his embrace, clutching at his black suit and she began to sob uncontrollably. Every cry was heart-wrenching and Chat was helpless, unsure of what to do or say, as he rubbed gentle circles across Ladybug's back. 

"Shhh, it's all right. It's okay." he soothed, his heart breaking at her cries. She sounded so lost, so broken, and she clung even tighter to him, as he murmured quiet nothings to her, hoping to calm her tears. 

"Shhhhh. Don’t cry, my Lady. I'm here. It's alright."  

Chat couldn't help feel a strange sense of déjà vu. Someone he loved, someone he truly cared about was in pain and distress. Someone he loved was suffering, greatly. And he had no idea on how to help. He was nothing short of useless at that very moment, whilst the one in his arms clung to him desperately as if he was the only lifeline left in this world. And as they cried in his arms, Chat's heart broke into thousands of pieces. Why did this pain feel so familiar? … Of course. Marinette. Ladybug was exactly like Marinette at that moment, utterly defeated and hopeless.  

"It's – it's m-my fault! A-all my fault!" she sobbed into his shoulder.  

Okay. Now Chat Noir was confused? Her fault? What was her fault? What on earth was she going on about? 

He took his Ladybug by the shoulders, firmly but gently encouraging her to look at him in the eyes. Her sapphire blue eyes were dull and full of misery beneath her red and black-spotted mask, her freckled cheeks still wet with her hot tears. 

"Ladybug. First of all, breathe. Calm down and take a deep breath." 

Chat watched his lady struggle through her frantic gasps and sobs so he breathed with her, counting each breath quietly. Never had he seen his Lady so distraught. It wasn't like her. Ladybug was a force to be reckoned with, determined, brave, a superhero. Now she looked so broken, stressed … so ... human! Just like him. And that did more than simply concern him. Ladybug never revealed her weaker side to him. This was highly unorthodox. Something must have truly affected her to force her to break the wall she had put around herself, the walls she built high and strong in order to keep herselp  safe and sane. 

"Alright. Are you feeling better?" he asked her. Ladybug was still miserable but her breathing had quietened. Good.  

"Now, tell me. What on earth are you talking about? What is your fault?" Chat pleaded softly. 

Ladybug flinched in his arms, and all of a sudden she lost the ability to support herself, simply falling to the ground, onto her knees. Alarmed, Chat quickly caught her, gently bringing his Lady to him, allowing her to crawl and curl against him, on his lap. He hushed her, feeling her tremble in his arms. 

"M-marie was right!" she confessed. 

"Marie? About what?" 

"You – y-you heard what Marie said. She started the heatwave. S-he started the … f-flashflood." 

Realisation hit the feline hero like a sharp punch to the stomach. His Lady thought, she believed … No! _No, no, no!!!!_  

"Ladybug! You are _not_ to blame for that! Whatever she said as an akuma, those were just words! How were we to know that storm was an akuma attack? No one is at fault for what happened that night. Nor is anyone at fault for the events that occurred after. Not me. Not anyone else. And especially not you!" Chat exclaimed. 

"C-Chat!" Ladybug wept. "My lucky charm! It didn't cure the damage from the flood! Only the heatwave." 

Chat's heart clenched at Ladybug's confession, and he brought her tightly into his arms, hugging her close.  

So that was it! Of course. Chat should have suspected as much, when he saw homes and people still struggling to get their lives back together from that terrible night, on his way to the Eiffel Tower. His Lady's heart was so kind, so honest and earnest; she believed she could fix everything, not because she wanted to … but because she _had_ to; that there was no one else and she couldn't afford to make a mistake. Chat never truly understood the terrible and stressful burden that Ladybug had to carry. In her shoes, Chat knew his Lady feared not being able to fix things, to put things right. She didn't believe in accidents. She didn't believe in - 'everything would right itself'. There was only Ladybug to solve everything. And Chat couldn't bear the idea of his Lady consuming herself with guilt. It wasn't her fault. It really wasn't. How was she to know that the flash flood was an akuma attack? How was she to know that her lucky charm only cured 'recent' events, not the damage caused by an attack or disaster from weeks ago? No one could have known that! Not even Ladybug. Despite how often Chat perceived her as such an incredible hero and thus putting her on a pedestol, seeing her crying so helplessly, clinging to him for support, brutally brought him to the reality. For underneath that mask, Ladybug was just a human girl; an ordinary human like him with needs, fears and wants, forced to take on such a heavy responsibility. 

Everything he had wanted to say earlier to his Lady; his confession, the truth about Marinette … all of it had vanished. It was gone. There was only Ladybug and her fears now; fears that only he could take away. 

"Ladybug." Chat said softly, stroking her black pigtailed hair, soft and as dark as raven feathers. Goodness. Having her here, in his arms, felt strangely familiar. At that very moment, she reminded him of Marinette when she had been frightened and so alone. Curled and astonishingly small and fragile against his chest, he could only see Marinette in Ladybug; a broken and frightened woman. Chat quickly shook his head. As much as he hated himself for it, he knew he couldn't think about Marinette now when his Lady, his partner, needed him right now. Marinette was Ladybug. Ladybug wasn't Marinette! Civilian life wasn't to get in the way of his life as a superhero. He was Chat Noir at that moment; not Adrien Rousseau. 

"Listen to me LB. Whatever you're thinking or feeling right now, I want you to know – though you're a superhero, though there are times we can't make mistakes … you can't save everybody. That's the harsh reality of it." 

"Th-that's horrible! W-why are you saying that Ch-chat?!" Ladybug sobbed, harder into his chest. "I can't afford to make mistakes! I could have prevented that storm from happening! I should have seen the signs. I could have h-helped people! And now – they're p-paying for _my_  mistake!" 

"Ladybug! You can't expect to be right all the time! You can't hope or dream to be 'everyone's savior. No one is that perfect. Not even superheroes. I – I realise that now. And I'm sorry." 

Ladybug felt him gently stroke her hair, hearing him hush her with soothing nothings. The sound of his heartbeat was strangely comforting, warm … she felt safe in his arms. 

"Realise what? Why are you sorry?" 

"Ladybug. You're amazing, incredible, you're this brave and wonderful person always fighting to see things to the end. And because of that I … I praised you, forced expectations on you. I – I m-made you feel like you had to be perfect. And that was unfair of me. Forgive me." 

"I – I don't – My job is to protect Paris. I can't afford to make mistakes, Chat! You know that! Neither can you. We have to help people. We have to do things right." 

"I know, but even we make mistakes." 

"We shouldn't." 

"We should. We will. We can't help that, my Lady." 

"Why are you saying it like it's going to be inevitable? Why?" 

"Because underneath these masks, both of us are merely people. That's something we can't hope to ever change. We're ordinary people born to make mistakes. And we learn from those mistakes. No matter how hard we try, no matter what we do to make ourselves forget … we will always be that 'ordinary' human beneath our superhero counterparts."  

"Ch-chat?" 

"Ladybug. You're human. You're perfectly, imperfect. You try your hardest. You try and do your best. And you know what – that's all you need. That's all you can do. That's all people can ask of you." 

"I - ..." Ladybug was hesitant. So Chat tenderly brushed the tears away from her eyes, cupping her warm flushed face in the palm of his gloved hand. 

"You try. That's all you need to do." 

Ladybug wasn't thinking. But Chat's words had been so comforting.  

 _Perfectly, imperfect_. Chat thought her … perfect. Why was her heart sore from hearing such kind, gentle words. Why did her cheeks burn wherever he touched her face, stroking away her tears? Marinette treasured Chat's words, for she was just that; she was perfect for being herself. She was perfect for simply trying and doing her best. She didn't need to give more. She was a superhero who made mistakes. Why was Marinette content with knowing that? Why did Chat's words make everything seem so much easier? It was as if, he had lifted a great weight off of her shoulders. She could breathe again and she sighed in relief, relaxing against his chest. Chat had made everything sound like it was okay. She couldn't protest or fight against his earnest words. No matter what she thought, no matter how many times she second-guessed herself, Chat was right. She was still human underneath the mask; she was Marinette. And she was okay with that. She was okay with being herself. Or …she could be okay with it, eventually. With Chat by her side, everything would be easier. 

And for a brief moment Marinette had completely forgotten who she was. Pulling away from him, she had wanted to thank her kind partner for his words. But all she could see was him. All she saw was Chat, her kind, insufferable, witty and loving best-friend, who always there for her. She saw the beautiful evergreen-eyed feline who would gently tease and comfort her with witty and affectionate words, whenever she was just her, just ordinary Marinette. She saw the superhero that would visit her at night, who had given up on Ladybug, for he had fallen in love with _her_. And he had let her go, with his blessing, unselfish, earnest, true. She saw her best friend. She saw her partner. Marinette saw the incredible man she had unexpectedly 'fallen' for. And for a brief moment … Adrien ceased to exist. 

Without thinking, she took his warm, weathered cheeks into the palms of her hands and she kissed him softly on the lips. 

Chat Noir couldn't find it in his heart to push her away. He didn't know how to, as his green eyes widened in complete shock. And he could give no coherent explanation, as to why he had started returning that very same kiss. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys! I'm finally back! Christmas and New Years is over. Hopefully I'll be able to write more regularly now, with reasonable 1000+ < 1500 word chapters and not these really big ones. Currently working and drawing a lot for my design portfolios. I will still write but drawing also takes up a lot of my time too. But to make up for my lack of updates ... he's a 'two-chapters-in-one' thing for you to read! Oh ... and enjoy some confusing heartache 'cus I've introduced some LadyNoir! Enjoy!
> 
> Side note: chapter includes very crude DJWifi post-sex chat - very sexual, dirty, brash talking so I hope nothing is too offensive. This is a Mature fanfiction so those reading 'should' be of an appropriate age!


	36. She Was The Sun. She Is The Moon.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This fanfiction is now rated Mature, thus is suitable for 'mature' audiences.

Marinette woke up in a cold sweat, gasping from the horrible nightmare. Memories of Adrien's torn face, evergreen eyes were hurt and disappointed from her  betrayal. She watched him he walk away from her, disappearing into the distance whilst she screamed silently for him to wait, her feet glued to the ground. And then he was gone. And everything went bad. She couldn't breathe. Everything in that nightmare had spiraled out of control, and she drowned. It had felt so real. Why had it felt so real? Curling against her pillow, she couldn't stop her tears. 

Tiki's heart clenched as she gazed at her chosen. Marinette had such a 'miraculous' way of getting herself into all sorts of trouble; trouble that only hurt herself, more than it did others. She ended up in such unusual and unnecessary situations and they seemed to get worse and more hurtful, as she grew into adulthood. At most times she could solve them. But even if she could that didn't mean she could solve so many all at once. Tiki knew that watching her chosen weep over her terrible mistake from hours ago; the fated kiss with none other than Chat Noir, was an inevitable occurrence. But Marinette was sick. Crying and letting her guilt consume her was only making her fever worse.  

Tiki wasn't sure how she could make things better. So many things had happened to Marinette. Bad things. Exhausting things. Terrible and emotionally draining, from the flash flood, having to fix the bakery, starting a new job to make ends meet and help her parents, finally being in a relationship with her long-time crush since middle school, finding out the truth about lucky charm not being able to cure damage caused by akuma attacks that occurred weeks ago. Tiki was surprised and undeniably proud that Marinette had somewhat braved each event. But her foolish decision to kiss Chat had been the catalyst that had finally sent Marinette into a terrible and nauseating whirlwind of emotions. Tiki didn't think it possible for one person to experience so much sadness in the one month. But the final 'news' had proved Tiki wrong. 

It had been an accident. It was nobody's fault. It was really was an accident. Marinette had stumbled on the conversation upon leaving the bathroom. Her parent's door was ajar. She had overhead everything. Or rather, she had eavesdropped. And now Marinette's guilt was so heavy, she could barely cope with the burden that crushed her heart like a heavy cold stone. Her parents were in debt. They were _very_ in debt, using loans to pay off so many damages since some of the bakery was not insured. Though sales had been good, money still had been tight. Marinette always feared her parents would be unable to cope with expenses. She listened at the door, absolutely horrified. The horrible events of the akuma attacks, the truth about her lucky charm, all came flooding back. Her parents were in debt. They were suffering. And it was all her fault. Everything that had happened to them had been _her_ fault.  

A nauseating blackness had suddenly taken hold of her, completely. Tiki could do nothing as she watched her chosen collapse to the ground at the door of her parents bedroom. Tom and Sabine had rushed out, only to find their daughter still, deathly pale and unconscious. With heavy hearts they knew their daughter had heard everything. All they could do was gently pick her up, cool the sudden fever that had taken ahold of their daughter, carefully laying her down on the sofa, as they revived her. Neither Tom nor Sabine could understand why their daughter, in her feverish anxious state, was constantly blaming herself; repeating over and over that she 'could have done something' or she 'should have realised sooner'. 

And here she was, sobbing on her bed, both head and aching heart full of confusion, anxious pain, and never ending conflict. But her cries were soft, silent, lonely, as she bore her pain and guilt deep within herself. 

"Marinette." Tiki sighed, flitting over, "How is it that you get yourself into these situations?" 

"Tiki – I'm … I'm the worst person ever. My parents are in debt because of me. I've let down my family, my friends, the rest of Paris because I didn't see it. I should have realised! And now, my parents are in debt. They're badly in debt!" 

"Marinette, your parents will be alright. Nothing will happen. I promise." 

"Tiki, they were … they were considering about selling our apartment. We'd have to move. We'd have to move from the home I've always known! I've-"  

"Marinette! Stop! Please! You're sick. You're tired. You need to calm down. You've been through so much. It's going to be alright." 

Tiki quickly flitted down to Marinette's desk. Her parents had left a cold compress for their daughter. Tiki brought it back to her chosen and gently pressed it to Marinette's hot fevered head, as she lay in her bed sheets. Her kwami frowned. She has a raging temperature. Stressing and worrying was only going to make Marinette sicker than she already was.  

"Not only have I hurt my parents … I've betrayed, Adrien. I've hurt him!" Marinette sobbed into her pillow. 

"Marinette -" 

"And I've hurt Chat!" 

"Marinette, please. You need to take a deep breath. You're really sick. You need rest." 

"What should I do?" Marinette pleaded. 

"I'm not sure what I should say. Should I scold you for doing something so foolish, and so selfish? Should I offer advice on how to fix it? Or should I comfort you because I somewhat understand why you did what you did? What am I saying?! I shouldn't be giving you advice now. You're far too ill." 

Marinette looked up from her pillow through tear stained eyes, her exhausted face utterly miserably, as she caught sight of the tiny red kwami that had perched beside her. The world around her spun. Marinette had a throbbing headache. 

"A-anything. Say anything. It's not like I can't take it. I already know I'm the worst person in the world." 

"Okay. Well – let's do it this way." her kwami said gently. "Sit up slowly, Marinette. Rest your head against the pillow. That's it. Now, I'm not going to lecture you. But clearly if I don't say something, you'll just worry and make yourself even more sick. I can't let that happen. So we're going to talk and we're going to talk through this slowly." 

Her chosen did as she was told, slight confusion gracing her sapphire blue eyes and her freckled tear-stained and very flushed face. Tiki fluttered to the rise of her knees and legs, hidden under the pink duvet. 

"Alright. Now, if you're feeling any worse, or I see you're in distress, we stop talking immediately. That is my compromise. Understand?" 

"I-"  

Tiki crossed her arms. "Your health is at stake. Do you understand me, Marinette?" 

Despite the burning soreness in her throat, and the throbbing pain deep behind her eyes and tender temples, she finally nodded. Tiki seemed somewhat assured. 

"Now, I'm going to ask you questions. I'm not going to be judgemental in any way, whatsoever. I'm asking out of my owm curiosity and for me to understand and assess the situation. Is that all right, Marinette?" 

Marinette gave a small 'yes'. 

"Alright, First of all, why did you kiss Chat Noir?" 

Marinette flinched, gripping the bed sheets in her hands tightly.  

"I – I honestly don't know. I have no real answer for that." 

"Alright. How about this? What made you want to kiss Chat in the first place? Was it something he said?" 

Marinette remembered Chat's gentle yet earnest words of truthful comfort; _perfectly, imperfect_. So similar, so kind, the exact words Adrien had said to her. Chat loved her for who she was. He always had, back when they were younger and more naïve. He had always claimed that he would love the girl under the mask despite her staunch refusal to ever reveal her true identity. And he had carried that promised still. He loved the girl, the ordinary human beneath the superhero mask, not Ladybug. He loved _her,_ Chat loved Marinette, despite her mistakes and faults, loving the bad that came with the good … just like Adrien. And her heart ached with guilt, knowing she had hurt such beautiful, good and kind-hearted men. 

"I – with what he said … I only saw Chat but not as Ladybug. I saw him as – as the girl under the mask. I saw Chat as Marinette, Tiki. I saw him as me, the real me. I saw him as the crazy cat that would visit me every night, who would spend time with me, and get to know my true self. This was the Chat that would purposely alter his patrol routes to visit me, to comfort me when I needed it most, to make me laugh with his stupid puns. I saw Chat not as my partner, but as the man that had confessed his love for me, the man who willingly gave me his blessing when he let me go, so I could be with Adrien." 

Marinette felt fresh tears fall down her face, dripping from her chin. She could feel the stress, the misery and the chaos deep inside her, which was making her head spin. She hurt. Everything hurt. She was panicking. She was gonna be sick. 

"Marinette, breathe! Breathe!" 

Marinette struggled to do as she was told. Tiki breathed with her, her voice soft, quiet and soothing, an assuring balm to ease her. Soon, she could breathe once more. 

"Please don’t cry anymore, Marinette. You're ill. Your heart can only take so much sadness." 

"Tiki! I'm such a horrible person! I … I think – no! I'm … I love Chat Noir! I think I always have! As my partner and best friend! I love the man who I've constantly pushed away and refused to care even more about because I didn't want him falling in love with my superhero self. And now I've kissed him - and as Ladybug! I've hurt him, Tiki! What's worse, I know I can't love him. I can't have feelings for Chat because I still love Adrien so much too! I'm still in love with Adrien that it hurts to breathe. Both of them make me so happy, so loved. And now ... I – it feels like my heart is tearing in two! I love the both of them so much! I'm the absolute worst!" 

"Marinette – who do you want to be with?" 

"I – I don't … Adrien. I've always loved him. I love him still. But, Chat and the akuma, him comforting me … it felt so … so familiar, like he really understood what I was going through. He didn't push me away. He held me. He made things better. With him I knew everything was going to be okay. He – he reminded me so much of Adrien at that moment. And I hate myself even for comparing the both of them." 

"C-comparing them?" Tiki said in surprise. 

"Y-yeah. I … I love both of them because they're so different. But surprisingly, they're actually really alike. Both of them are smart, kind-hearted, brave, determined, loyal and righteous. What's more, they actually have a similar sense of humours. Both of them are very witty or rather, both are always trying to make me laugh, to ensure that I'm happy." 

"Marinette ..." Tiki began cautiously. Something had been concerning her for a while. The fact that Marinette had openly admitted comparing Chat to Adrien and vice versa.  

"How long have you been comparing the two like this?" 

Marientte thought for a moment. "Not long. Only recently. Maybe less than a week." 

"Marinette, listen. As a kwami, I can always sense when Chat is near. I can always sense when Chat's kwami is near too." 

"Okay … but what has that got to do with -" 

"This is a hypothetical situation. If I was to tell you I always sensed Chat's kwami whenever Adrien was with you, how would you react?" 

Marinette's tears abruptly stopped as she gave her kwami a look. 

"Don't be ridiculous, Tiki!" she wanted to scream, only to end up in a fit of painful dry coughs that racked through her chest. 

Marinette's kwami gave a small yelp of surprise, rushing to get the small bottle of water next to her computer. 

Marinette took it gratefully. Although her throat stung, raw and painful from every gulp, she forced herself to drink slowly. Her body needed liquid, it would ease the cough and lubricate her throat.  

After screwing the bottle cap back on, she took a deep breath. 

"Adrien is not Chat Noir. I mean, he can't be. And Chat Noir isn't Adrien. I just said that the two of them are very similar. That's why my heart is torn between the two, equally. I love them both. But I know I have to hurt Chat because my head's telling me I have to be with Adrien." 

Tiki sighed. It was too late in the evening to broach her suspicions on Chat Noir, any further. And bringing up the subject hadn't been a good idea. Her very sick and conflicted chosen was already too exhausted from everything. That would be for another night, when things were a little better. There were other things to take care of at the moment. 

"Marinette, you need to understand, choosing to be with Adrien ultimately means having to tell him eventually on you being Ladybug. And vice-versa if you choose Chat." 

"I - I know. I'm going to have to apologise too, Chat. As Ladybug. He ... he'll be so heartbroken. He'll be alone. And it's all my fault! I can't bear to imagine what he's thinking right now." 

"Marinette. I think it would be best to talk to him as soon as possible. Well, the moment you feel better. Obviously you're too ill right now. But the longer you leave this hanging once you've recovered, the more it will eat you up inside. It will get worse. The guilt will only grow. And you've already got so many other things on your mind." Tiki suggested gently. 

"I … I'm scared Tiki. I'm scared he'll hate me." Marinette confessed, her voice no more than a whisper. 

The red kwami shook her head. She was certain about one thing. Chat Noir would never hate her. He could never hate his Lady. As for Marinette, 'hate' wasn't even a consideration.  

"He won't, Marinette. He won't. I'm certain." 

Marinette sighed with relief, the fear and the tension that had wound tight and painful in her chest, finally releasing. She collapsed back into the sheets and her pillows, exhausted and she was thankful the soft warmth that surrounded her, held her throbbing head carefully. 

"Sleep, Marinette. Your body and your mind needs rest. Tomorrow is a new day. We'll fix things. You'll see." 

"Hmmmm. Fix things. R-right thing. Must … fix."  

Marinette was already too far gone, her body weary, completely exhausted from everything that had happened. And now, her body was paying the ultimate price, trembling and tossing beneath her bed sheets as she drifted off to sleep in a fevered delirium. Tiki fluttered softly to Marinette's hot face, staying close. She would sleep next to her chosen tonight, her powers to not only purify but 'cure' and 'heal' Marinette back to health, needed througout the night. 

"Must fix. Help. … Mom … Dad … D-drop out." 

Wait. Huh? That was strange. Tiki gave her sleeping chosen an odd look. _Drop out? Drop out of what?_  

 

\----- 

 

"What do I do, Plagg? Ladybug kissed me. I kissed her back. I've – I've hurt Marientte. I've betrayed her! I've betrayed my Princess. And I've only made things worse with Ladybug."  

Plagg buzzed around him. Although seemingly uninterested and aloof, his green cat eyes said another thing entirely. On the inside he was nothing but concerned for his chosen. He had never seen Adrien so confused, so stressed, so … so frightened. The torment Adrien was going through right now was even worse than when he had decided to give up Ladybug and choose to be with Marinette. 

"Kid – listen to me. Ladybug kissed you. She must have had her reasons, whatever they are, but I have a feeling it was an impulse thing. I don't she really meant to kiss you. Kind of a spur of the moment I guess." Plagg reasoned gruffly, perching on Adrien's shoulder. 

Adrien wiped away the hot tears that had stung his eyes, stressfully rubbing his hands through his sunkissed golden hair. "But I kissed her back! I kissed her! I should have pushed her away. I knew the ramifications of what it would do. But I kissed her anyway. And now … I've betrayed Mari!" 

"You haven't betrayed her whatsoever! I know you still love Marinette, kid. What you did with Ladybug, what you feel for her is very different. Considering everything that happened, the stress of the entire akuma attacks, what Ladybug went through with Lucky Charm, and what you've been meaning to tell her for the past few weeks … I guess everything boiled down to that … 'kiss' reaction. I mean, what you did is no excuse. I'm still disappointed in you but from how you're reacting to this entire thing, I can only assume you want to do nothing more than make things right." 

"Of course I want to make things right! I kissed Ladybug. I kissed the one person I've been in love with since I was fifteen. She was my whole world, then. She was the person I aspired to be. She … she was like the sun. No. She _was_ my sun. Yet as enamoured and dazzled as I was by her, I was  forced to except she could never love me back, she never let me get close. I respected that. It hurt but I still respected her feelings. So I moved on, kind of. What else was I to do. And instead of loneliness waiting for me,  I fell in love with my Princess." 

"And what – she's like, the moon and stars or something?" Plagg rolled his eyes.  

Adrien was really cheesy and overly dramatic but at least he was being honest. Honest and a hopeless romantic. As much as Plagg hated getting involved with human emotions and complicated love triangles, he was Adrien's kwami. He had to listen and help his chosen in anyway he could. And to be perfectly honest, he truly wanted Adrien to be happy, to find happiness. Marinette had found a way to give him that and more.. 

And Plagg was a little more than shocked when Adrien refused to retort back with a snarky comment. Instead, he only nodded, his voice soft. 

"To me, Ladybug was like the sun. She still is. Bright, dazzling, absolutely perfect but too bright and always out of reach. At least, that's what I thought until I held her in my arms today. She seemed so broken, so lost and sad and I just … I shouldn't have kissed her. But I did. It was wrong of me to return it. I don't deserve her kindness. As for Mari, I ..." Adrien trailed off, his face full of pain. 

"Kid. Why is Ladybug like the sun to you and why is Marinette like the moon, come to think of it? What makes the moon so special, even more so than the sun?" Plagg asked him, curious now. 

"Plagg, I'm Chat Noir. I'm the epitome of bad luck. I'm am the representation of the night or rather, darkness. My powers are 'destruction'. Ladybug is like the sun, she's bright, she purifies … brings back life. She creates it." Adrien answered quietly, honest and sad. 

"And Marinette?" 

Adrien thought for a moment, looking out the small bedroom window of his room. Strangely enough, there was a moon, not a full one, but a soft crescent. The night was absolutely clear, no clouds dotted the black sky. There were no stars though. It was difficult to see stars in a city known for it's bustling and beautiful nightlife. But despite the city lights, the sliver of white-silver that curved into the sky shone bright and crystal clear. But it didn't shine bright and dazzling like the sun. The moon glowed bright but soft, illuminating his room with a beautiful white and gentle glow. And against the pitch black sky, it seemed even more beautiful, welcoming the lonely silent darkness it was in, the black a stark yet, protective cocoon. 

"She's like the moon. She seems so far away to touch. But in reality, she isn't. She glows, Plagg. She glows softly, she's so beautiful without ever meaning to be. She doesn't even have to try. I guess, she's like the moon because sometimes, there are nights when the moon isn't there. You can't see it. But it doesn't mean she isn't still there. That's what they call new moons. And she always comes back, shining softly, accepting the darkness, glowing without fear." 

"Poetic." 

Adrien shrugged but couldn't help but smile. "The moon really is like Marinette. And I'm, what? I'm Chat Noir, darkness, bad luck, shadow and destruction all in one. I'm a representation of the night when there is no moon, when no light should exist, when the stars don't come out to guide people home. I've had to live with that burden since I was fifteen." 

"Kid … I'm sorry." Plagg was crestfallen. "I mean, being Chat hasn't been all that bad." 

"No! Of course not. You know that, Plagg." Adrien said quickly, lightly bopping his kwami on the head, assuring his kwami that it was still okay.  

But Adrien knew he had to accept the bad things that came with the good. It wasn't easy being Chat Noir. Plagg still felt guilty for bestowing powers of such a dark and destructive nature on a kind-hearted man. like his chosen. His chosen had relished his newfound freedom, and he had readily accepted the darker sides of Chat Noir too. Thus Adrien had been provided the freedom he had always longed for, the freedom to be himself, to be imperfect, to run, and to breathe when he became Chat Noir. But it came at a price; a heavy price of 'unfortunate luck'. One he knew he would keep having to accept and to pay should he wish to continue his freedom. 

"You know I love being Chat. It's just … difficult sometimes. There were times, I wondered if someone could ever like or at least acknowledge and accept, this part of me, despite the bad things that come with my powers. I thought Ladybug accepted me. She does. I know that. But she never wanted to get close to me, she was afraid of revealing too much of herself. And I like I said, I've had to respect her decisions. Besides, I've accepted she was always way out of my league. She was too much like the sun, too bright always taking away the darkness. Sun takes away night after all. They co-exist with one another, they are partners … but never are they allowed to be …. _together._ " 

"Kid, people need the sun, they need daylight. But they also need nighttime. They need darkness. Polar opposites come hand in hand; just as good and bad." 

"I know, Plagg. But it's lonely. I didn't want to be alone in the dark. I still don't. It's not like I can escape that loneliness, at least, that's what I thought until Marinette came into my life." 

"Kid?" 

"Sometimes the moon isn't there. It's just the night sky. But, the moon always comes back, a cycle, glowing softly yet even brighter and more beautiful than the stars. It's a light that _always_ promises to return, that's there to ease some of that darkness. The moon is constant. It may get hidden behind the clouds but it is always there, quiet, waiting and beautiful. The sun can't do that. That sun isn't there to make the darkness bearable. It doesn't accept the darkness for what it is, it only takes it away. But the moon … Marinette, she's like the moon, shining so beautiful and perfectly imperfect, glowing, being herself. She's the light that's always been there, shining, waiting for me, promising to always return with her kind-hearted, determined, gentle yet fiery and beautiful personality." 

Plagg was quiet for a moment. Then he spoke, giving a sigh, as he stretched across Adrien's shoulder. 

"You really love her, don't you Adrien." Plagg said. 

"Yes. So much. I … I don't know what I would do if I was to lose her." 

"You know, I don't normally like offering advice, not unless you ask for it. But I'm gonna offer it free of charge, no need for Camembert."  

Adrien scoffed, giving his kwami a look. "That's a first." 

"Want my advice or not?" 

"Hit me." 

"Really?" 

"I meant 'hit me' with it. The advice." 

"Oh. Well. You need to be honest with Ladybug. As soon as possible. Tell her that you've moved on. She will understand. It's for the best. And do it as soon as possible. You can't let this guilt and conflict tear you up like it's doing now." 

Adrien took the advice, heart clenching at the thought of hurting his Lady even more but he knew the truth was for the best. Honesty was always the best. He made a promise to Marinette. He had to extend that promise to his partner and best friend. 

"And Marinette." 

"You'll have to tell her you kissed Ladybug." 

"What?! I can't! I-" Adrien exclaimed, suddenly consumed with so much unbearable guilt that his entire heart hurt. Marinette would … she would be so hurt, so disappointed. And suddenly he was full with fear. What if she was angry with him? Or worse. What if she simply left?! No longer would her soft glow, her beautiful imperfect self be in his life. There would be nothing but pain and never ending darkness. He would be alone again. 

"Yes you will, Adrien. First you talk to Ladybug. Then you talk to Marinette. You promised you would be honest with her. You need to tell her the truth. That includes how Ladybug instigated this whole dilemma. Then, tell her your real identity; tell her about Chat Noir." 

Adrien flinched a little. Was Marinette ready for that? Was _he_ ready? 

"Is it the right time, Plagg?" 

Plagg's green eyes shone with certainty in the moonlight. 

"I want you to be happy, kid. I also want Marinette to be happy. Tell her the truth. Tell her about Chat Noir." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter guys! Please enjoy! <3


	37. A Tiny Cat’s Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This fanfiction is now rated Mature, thus is suitable for 'mature' audiences.

Due to Marinette being sick, dance practice with Adrien had to be canceled. She also had to call Alya, letting her know (after a few horrible coughs laters) that she was too ill to come in that day. Not only was she coughing but her entire chest was in pain and tender to touch. But this still meant she had to be confined to her house, if not her bedroom for an entire week. A doctor had visited her claiming she had caught a viral chest infection, the stress of everything that had happened only worsening her illness. Marinette had assumed it had something to do with the last akuma but she dutifully took the awful medicine she had been prescribed three times a day. Asides from her parents she wasn’t to come in contact with anyone else. That included Adrien. For the first time, Marinette was relieved. She wasn’t prepared to face him; not after betraying him so horribly. But she sent him text messages, saying that she missed him, whilst also lying the chest infection had robbed her of her voice so she wasn’t able to speak to him on the phone. The doctor had encouraged her not to talk too much anyway. 

Thankfully, she wasn’t too ill to not continue her university coursework. She kept herself busy for a few hours of the day or at least tried to. She was somewhat able to sit up and sketch. Thankfully, her major work was finished. She no longer had to worry about sewing. The details for her elective course work still had to be drafted out. She had already cut the main body of her costume, the pink fabric laying quietly on her work desk. Despite the slight throbbing headache, she was fairly fine, managing to come down for lunch and dinner, but being sick meant she was off limits from coming near the bakery goods.

Tiki was sitting quietly by her side, as Marinette sketched. But a soft rap on her windowsill made her heartbeat quicken and her uneasy dread to settle in the pit of her stomach.

“It’s Chat.” she whispered, clenching the pencil in her hand.

“Marinette - are you okay? To talk to him?” Tiki asked softly.

“I … I don’t know, I-”

But Chat’s voice interrupted her conversation.

“Princess, would you let me in? This entire week has been … bad. Today, especially. I just need to talk to someone.” 

Chat sounded so sad, so desperate for companionship and it hurt her heart to know that she was truly the cause for his distress.

“I’ll hide beneath your pillow. Don’t worry.” Tiki assured, knowing Marinette had made her choice.

Tiki flitted away, hiding from plain sight. There was only her and Chat rapping anxiously against the window, hoping for her to respond.

“Ch-chat?” she rasped, not too loudly. Her throat hurt too much.

“Princess? You sound sick.”

“I’m opening the latch but you’ll have to open the window yourself; I’m really tired. And it really hurts to move right now.”

Even pulling herself up from her bedsheets was exhausting but she somehow managed, flipping the latch, before settling back into her pillows, her aching body heavy.

Chat neatly dropped onto the bed, the soft moonlight dusking his golden hair with white highlights. But he angled his face downwards not looking directly at her; his features completely bathed in shadow. He said nothing.

Marinette’s guilt weighed her down, cold and heavy, just like her aching fevered body. She didn’t need to see his face to know. Although positioned in his usual cat-like crouch, Chat’s shoulders were slumped, his head low, cat ears drooped, matching his limp tail on the bed. The silence was deafening, a thick cloud of tension and unresolved misery hanging low between the two of them. She could only imagine Chat’s usual smirk or gentle smile had been placed by a thin line; his bright green cat eyes, dull with sadness. Chat Noir was absolutely distraught at the moment, a swarm of different conflicting emotions tearing at him from the inside. She could easily tell by simply looking at him. And it was all her fault.

“Ch-Chat. I … I’m so sorry!” she whispered, burning tears quickly beginning to brim the corners of her eyes, memories of that horrible fated kiss that shouldn’t have felt so good, so perfect and ever so right, suddenly coming back to haunt her. 

Chat suddenly looked up. She was right, Chat’s mask could not hide his sadness, but a soft layer of confusion graced in his glowing cat-green eyes.

“W-why are you sorry, Princess?”

“Because-” 

Marinette paused momentarily as fear washed over her. How could she couldn’t say that it was all because of her? What would he think of her if he found if she was truly Ladybug?! He would never forgive her. And Marinette could never forgive herself.

“Because everything that’s happened to you, you’re sad. And I can’t do anything to help. I’m probably making it worse by saying all of this.” 

God! Marinette was so pathetic, as she wept bitterly into her hands. She had no right to cry. Chat Noir should have been crying. It was her fault. Not his. It was _all_ her fault! It usually was. And for the first time, she really had no idea on how she could fix things between the two of them. She had broken Chat’s trust. She had broke Adrien’s! She had hurt them. Something like that couldn’t be fixed. 

“Marinette, please don’t cry.” Chat whispered, moving towards her as he hesitantly reached out his hand.

But Marinette couldn’t bear it. She shrunk back, flinching away, cursing when the movement sent a stabbing pain deep within her chest. She didn’t deserve this; not his kindness, his comfort. And she certainly didn’t accept his loving and golden heart. And her own heart couldn’t bear the guilty and horrifying truth of it all. All the while she struggled to ignore the throbbing ache in her head and the slicing pain that assaulted her entire upper half. She knew crying was only worsening the fever but she found she couldn’t stop.

A cool gloved hand gently touched her cheek, Marinette shuddered from the soft touch, her heart finally breaking. Why was Chat being so kind to her? Why?! He should be pushing her away! He should be hating her!

“Princess! You’re burning up!” Chat said in alarm, and he quickly pulled back the bed sheets, in attempt to get her cool.

Marinette gave a whimper, her body shivering from the loss of warmth. 

“No! It’s cold.”

“Shhh! I know. Just - hold on.” 

Chat quickly popped down from Marinette’s bunk bed, landing on the floor with ease as he grabbed the soft fluffy dressing gown that was lying on the pink chaise, before heading back up to the very sick girl.

With little resistance, he easily draped the item around her shoulders, wrapping her tightly, before scooping her into his arms.

“Ch-Chat!” Marinette gave a yelp when she was suddenly pressed tight against the feline’s chest. Her tears had long been forgotten. 

_What on earth was Chat Noir doing?_ It took her a moment to realise she had been speaking out loud.

“You need some fresh air. That should keep you cool whilst you stay warm in that. You need the clean air.”

Chat lightly hopped up onto the roof, the sudden movement causing Marinette’s head to throb, and the world to spin. Nausea wasn’t the most pleasant of things to experience but it came hand in hand with a raging fever.

“But you’ll get sick too. I have a viral infection. I’m not allowed to be near people except my parents. You’ll catch it if you’re too close to me.”

She watched Chat Noir shake his head. “It doesn’t matter. Don’t worry about me.”

Despite the throbbing hazy sick in her head and aching body, Marinette gave a frown. What did Chat mean by that? Of course she worried about him. How could she not. He was her partner and best friend; perhaps more. But Marinette couldn’t bear to think about that now.

Wrapped snugly in her dressing gown against Chat’s chest, the wind that blew across the Parisian rooftops was surprisingly refreshing. Although she shivered at first contact, the soft wind began to cool her heated face, getting rid of the fevered haze and nausea.

Chat sat down on the small deck chair, Marinette curled on his lap, her hot head resting against his shoulder as he tucked her under his chin. His arms held her in a gentle and somewhat tentative embrace. That was odd. 

“This is better.” he said quietly.

“Th-thank you.”

An uncomfortable silence settled between them but Marinette found she hadn’t the courage to say the first word. All she could think about was that ‘kiss’; the ‘kiss’ that had hurt Chat so much. The seconds ticked by. The silence painful and excruciating. What was she to do? What could she say to make things better?

“Pr-Princess. I’m sorry for bothering you tonight. Especially since you’re ill. But I just needed to see you.”

Chat’s voice was soft and sad. She could only imagine how desolate his green eyes would be.

“W-What about?” 

She wasn’t even sure why she was asking him this. She already knew the answer.

“I … So many things are going wrong. I don’t know how to-” Chat took a breath. Then he sighed.

“So many things have happened and I’m struggling to make sense of it all. I don’t quite know how to deal with any of it. Everything is just one big mess.”

“What happened?”

“For starters, Ladybug kissed me.” Chat said glumly.

Marinette’s heart hurt. She did this to him. It was all her fault.

“I … why did she do that?”

“I honestly have no idea. I should be over the moon about it.”

“Why aren’t you? I mean. You were always in love with Ladybug.”

“I was. But not anymore. What’s worse - because she kissed me, I think I ended up kissing her back. I should have stopped her. Pushed her away. But I didn’t. I kissed her.”

“C-Chat. Isn’t this a - well a good thing?” Marinette knew it really wasn’t. Ladybug wouldn’t be able to reciprocate Chat’s love. She had constantly pushed him away. She would only end up hurting him again, just like she always did.

“Not when I’ve betrayed someone else’s trust.”

Marinette’s blue eyes went wide, glancing up at Chat.

“What?”

“I thought I loved Ladybug and I don’t anymore. I can’t. I can’t love someone that I could never ever have, that was never really there. She was too far from my reach, out of my league. Too perfect. She was never the one for me. I see that now. And I’ve accepted it. Yet I still kissed her!”

Marinette flinched. Chat didn’t love Ladybug anymore. He sounded so earnest, so frantic, as if desperately trying to make her believe that he felt nothing for her superhero counterpart. He no longer felt anything for his Lady, other than perhaps shock and disappointment from being kissed by her.

_Chat no longer loves me; my other side, my superhero counterpart. Does … does he hate me now because I kissed him?_

Marinette bit her lip from the revelation, about to say something but Chat continued, still anxious and desperate to simply let the heavy truth, burdening him since last night, finally release out into the open.

“I … I’ve found someone, Princess.” he finally confessed. “And I’m completely in love with her. She’s … she’s my moon. Ladybug is my sun. And this girl, she’s accepted me, she loves me so much. And now I’ve hurt her.”

Chat had found someone? He had finally found someone to love him; someone that could bebe with him and make him happy. He had finally found companionship, after so many years of dark loneliness. He had finally found someone who could return his love. The news was so wonderful; a relief to her, knowing Chat had found some semblance of happiness. If that was the case, why was this piece of news hurting her more than it should have? She should have been absolutely bursting happiness for Chat Noir, offering her congratulations. Instead, she just felt empty and very sad. Someone else had captured Chat’s heart, someone else was loving him. Soon he would be taken away from her. He would no longer see her, devote his time to someone else. What would happen to those nights; those special nights he would purposely change his patrol routes just so he could visit her.

Then Marinette wanted to kick herself. Not only was she being incredibly selfish and inconsiderate, she was also being incredibly stupid! She was with Adrien. Adrien was her heart, her boyfriend! Not Chat! She wasn’t supposed to be jealous nor angry over the one that had won Chat’s love an affection. 

“Who - who is she?”

“A story for another day. I mean for her sake I can’t reveal too much. For her safety as well as those that she cares about.”

“Oh. I understand. Well, I - I wish you all the best. You deserve everything and every chance to be happy, Chat Noir.”

Instead of acknowledging her somewhat less than heartfelt congratulations, Chat’s grip around her huddled frame, tightened somewhat, pulling her a little closer, almost protectively.

“She would hate me. No, she has every right to hate me if she’d ever found out that I kissed Ladybug. I’m just terrified that she’ll leave me, that she’ll be gone from my life entirely. I know I have to tell her the truth. I promised that I would always be honest with her, but I’m still scared.”

Unknown to Marinette, Chat continued to hold the beautiful girl he feared would despise him if she only knew the truth; the truth about him and everything that had really happened. Marinette was in his arms. She was so close and it physically pained him to have her in his embrace, knowing what he had done. He had betrayed this beautiful, kind-hearted and extraordinary girl. Chat could never forgive himself.

“I - she … she won’t leave you. I mean, it wasn’t your fault to begin with. If she doesn’t understand that, if she doesn’t see just how good of an amazing person you are than -”

“I’m so scared.”

“I …I know . I’m sorry, Chat. I’m so sorry. I’m also scared.” Marinette whispered.

“Of what?”

“I … I’ve done something bad too. I’ve also hurt someone.”

“How so?”

“I’m … I understand wh-what you’re going through. You’ve feel like you’ve betrayed someone. Someone you really care about. You didn’t mean for it to happen, you weren’t thinking but it did. And now, everything is going wrong, everything’s bad and you don’t know how you can fix things.”

“I’m - I’m sorry, Princess but I don’t understand.”

She honestly had no idea why she was telling him this, telling Chat the truth. It wouldn’t solve anything. It would only torment her best friend more. Not only was she the cause of everything that was happening, Chat truly did not know who he was holding in his arms at that very moment. Perhaps it was the dizzying spell that had suddenly taken ahold of her, accompanied by the throbbing pain in her chest an underarms, and painful fire in her throat that had her spewing words without truly comprehending the gravity of the situation? She was sick after all; she couldn’t really control what she said if she lacked the ability to think things through first. That was bad; very bad. But Marinette found herself to weary to even consider the consequences of her actions.

“I - I did the same thing as you. I hurt someone. Someone I truly care about. Not only have I hurt the one I care about, I’ve also hurt the one I love.”

Marinette took a deep breath, letting out a shaky exhale.

“I kissed someone else. I didn’t mean to but … I did. And I … oh god, what have I done?! Adrien will never forgive me. I don’t blame him if her doesn’t either.”

Chat froze, the words punching the air right out of his lungs. He struggled to process the horrible truth. Marinette had … she had … she had kissed someone else? How? How?!

“What?! I … Why, would you do that?!” Chat exclaimed, evergreen eyes absolutely horrified, body numb.

“You sound so disappointed in me, Chat. I deserve no less. I hate myself for doing that to him. For hurting the other person too. Neither of them deserve what I’ve done to them. Both of them should be with someone that makes them happy.”

“I - I don’t know what else I should say.”

“You don’t need to say anything. I’m not relieved by the fact that you’ve also kissed Ladybug when you’ve already found someone else. It doesn’t make me feel better nor does it excuse my actions. I’ve hurt both of them. And if I lose the man I’ve loved so, so much since I first laid eyes on him when was fifteen, and the man that’s been my closest companion and most trusted friend … then so be it. There’s nothing I can do to make things better. All I can say is how sorry I am.”

Marinette was beginning to drift. The soft glow of the moon was beginning to haze. Her body felt heavy. Her eyelids were beginning to droop. She was slowly losing consciousness, the fever beginning to slowly but surely take her away. She could barely comprehend what she was truly saying, as the truth fellfrom her mouth freely. She should have been more guarded. Had she been well she would have kept her mouth close or at the very least, choose her words with greater care without revealing anything more than what was necessary. But her illness had taken complete hold of her and she could no longer concentrate. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to tell Chat the truth (well not _all_ of it), she knew that it would be inevitable to reveal her true identity and darkest secrets to Adrien, one day. 

However, today was not that day. Tonight there was just her, and Chat, her loving partner, holding her sick and weak body, protectively in his arms, as honesty fell past her lips with ease. The truth was laid bare and despite the consequences, Marinette couldn’t find it in her heart to care. She should have. But she didn’t. She was just too tired; exhausted from everything. She just needed to get rid of the heartache that weighed her down. She just wanted all of it to end. 

As for Adrien, his heart was shattering into thousands of pieces with every word that she said. He was … to be honest he didn’t quite know how to feel for a cold emptiness had washed over him. He felt cold, empty, and most of all, utterly lost. His heart was tearing apart, inside of him, ripping in half. Marinette had hurt him; betrayed him. He was empty. Why did feeling empty hurt so much?

“You … Are you in love with this other man?” Chat found himself saying softly, voice thick with emotion, as he struggled to stop himself from crying. It was a futile effort and he was thankful she was curled against him. In the white moonlight, she would have easily seen the hot tears slowly dripping down his chin.

“Yes.” Marientte murmured, too tired to realise what she was saying. _Yes, Chat! I’m in love with you. I’m so in love with you that it hurts because I love Adrien, too._

“Why? What is it about him that made you kiss him when … when you’re in love with, Adrien?”

Marinette could only be honest now. After all, she had made it this far. To lie now was pointless. In this state she was just too tired. Chat deserved the truth. If not about Ladybug, then at least about how she felt. 

“Because he’s always been there for me. My partner, my best friend. My dark knight. He’s made me laugh, dried my tears, held me, he’s always been there for me when I needed him most. And I never truly realised until it was right there in front of me. That’s why it hurts so much to love him. I love him even though I know I shouldn’t. And now I’ve hurt not one good man, but two.”

_Why?! Why Marinate? Why do this?!_

Chat hadn’t realised he had been talking out loud.

“Because he said I was perfect. He’s always thought me perfect. Perfect as myself. _Perfectly, imperfect._ Just like Adrien. _”_

Marinette drifted, voice faltering. And Chat felt her head fall against the crook of his neck, her warm breath blowing softly against his skin. Sleep was beginning to fall asleep, her words a garbled mess. She didn’t even know she was still speaking.

And something inside the feline super-hero broke, brilliant evergreen cat-eyes going wide with shock. 

_Perfectly imperfe- but only I’ve ever …_

“And now … I’ve … got … o-ther things … to worry about …” she sighed.

“Other things?”

“Parents are … in debt. So many … l-loans … bills they can’t … can’t a-afford. H-have to …. help … them …”

“I’m sorry, Princess? Debt, you say?” 

He still couldn’t understand what she meant. Who had she kissed that told her those words? It was someone she knew and knew well. Yet only he had ever said that. But marionette’s soft distant voice interrupted him mid thought.

“Have … to help … pay …”

“Pay? To help your parents? How?”

“Only way … I’m g-going too … drop out … of … university.”

 

\-----

 

Adrien sat on one of the many rooftops, with Plagg at his side. As he sat, so many twists and turns were going around his head and it was beginning to give him a nauseating headache. Different emotions, thoughts and unanswered questions were nothing but a big jumbled mess that he had no hopes of sorting. Staring off into the rising sun, he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to think hard and rationally. He had to do things the right way or he was never going to get out of the current rut he was in.

“Hey kid, you still in there?” Plagg asked him from his shoulder.

“Still thinking, Plagg.”

Plagg gave a sigh. “You’ve got a lot on your plate, kid. So many things to consider.”

“Marinette’s family is in debt.”

Plagg’s ears drooped. He knew Adrien was evading the ‘other’ issue but it wasn’t like this one was any good either. The news had come as an unpleasant shock but he hadn’t been as horrified as his chosen had been. He had expected as much all things considered.

“Knowing Marinette, she’s going to do whatever it takes if it means helping her parents fix things.”

“She’s just that kind of girl.” Adrien admitted quietly. “Determined, selfless but always wanting to do things on her own, proving to everyone that she doesn’t need anyone else’s help.”

“You know she’s gonna do something drastic kid. I was there; I heard her too.” Plagg warned him, glancing at the golden-haired boy, his face tinted pink, warm by the rising sun.

“She’s going to drop out of school! She’s considering of leaving ESMOD! She can’t! She’s come so far!”

“Her parents can’t afford to pay for the rest of her university fees, with all the loans and and bills that are probably rocketing sky high through their ceiling and beyond. What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to help them.”

“Kid …” the tiny cat-kwami sighed, “There’s no hope in trying to convince Marinette going back to university, if you offer to help pay off the rest of her fees.”

“But I can afford it! I mean - the rent from the apartment will be enough to-”

“Kid, she won’t let you, not unless she gets some promise that she’ll be able to pay you back, fair and square.”

“But she doesn’t need to-”

“You’re not gonna get an option. You offer to help Marinette, she will staunchly refuse. Offer to help her parents … she’ll only feel guilty and find a way to pay you back. And she’ll keep reminding herself that she’s indebted to you. And I for one know you’ll absolutely refuse to let her feel that way.”

Plagg felt Adrien’s shoulders slump. Well, at least Plagg had been perceptive enough to hit the mark on that one.

“What can I do then?”

“Maybe don’t lie, like you did the last time.”

“Lie? What are you-”

Plagg growled, rolling his tiny green eyes. “Marinette’s job … the job that miraculously came out of no where from Anna, only because you suggested to the dance studios board of directors that a Graphic and Fashion Designer Role was needed. You practically begged them. Ring any bells?”

“I - it was the only way I knew she’d be able to take the job, Plagg. She refuses my help when she needs it most. I don’t know why?”

“She doesn’t want to come across as … weak in front of you. She’s afraid that if she’ll appear vulnerable, you’ll either be disappointed in her-”

“I would never think that!” Adrien exclaimed in shock.

“Not finished, kid! I for one know you’d never think that about her and it’s that very reason why, she doesn’t want to ask for your help.”

Adrien frowned. “If she knows that, then why?”

God! Sometimes, his chosen was so dense. This was the reason why Plagg hated getting involved with complicated human problems and emotions; because the problems that occurred were so stupidly simple and could easily be fixed that the tiny cat kwami constantly questioned himself on how the human race had survived for this long. Furthermore, Plagg had lost count on the number of times he wanted to rub his head against a cheese grater, froml knowing fully grown humans could make such a mess of things.

“It’s because she doesn’t want to be dependent on you. She knows you’ll do anything to help her, to the point you’ll be so selfless out of your love for her, she’ll stupidly think that she may be a burden to you. Doesn’t help the fact you’re this incredible famous model and she sees herself as the ‘seemingly-ordinary-side-chick’.”

“She is not a side-chick!”

“You know what I mean.”

Adrien was quiet for a moment. Thinking hard. Plagg somewhat waited as patiently as he could for his chosen to process what he said.

“How could you know this? About her?” Adrien finally asked, softly.

“One, she’s an open book. Doesn’t take a good judge of character to know the kind of person she is.” Plagg commented thoughtfully.

“Two, first hand experience. I know a certain someone who would do, react and feel exactly them same, if his and her roles or situations were reversed.”

Adrien gave his kwami a look, confusion gracing his handsome face. 

“Plagg?”

Plagg could only grimace. “Never mind, kid. You’ll learn when you’re significantly a whole lot older.”

Adrien frowned. That last bit was unnecessary but Plagg never let him say otherwise.

“The point is, if you’re going to help Marinette and her family pay off their debts, ‘cus me trying to stop you from doing so is a point so moot, nothing can be mooter-”

“ _Mooter?_ That’s not a word-”

“Let me finish!” Plagg glared at Adrien who held his hands up in defence.

“Alright, alright. Continue.”

“Like I was saying, if you want to help your ‘Princess’, you’re going to have to find a solution that allows her the freedom to pay for her university fees on her own. I get you want to help her and you will. But Marinette’s character doesn’t allow that. So find something that will make it as if _she’s_ the one achieving something; proving not to others but to herself that she can make a difference.”

“What? Like - like another job? Maybe another fashion job; an internship? I mean, she has her job at Latina á Paris but it’s not quite what she wants to do. A job with a new label or something wouldn’t get in the way of her studies, maybe it would even help her, get her experience, a foot in the door.”

“Well you have the contacts. That would be good. You can easily get her a job; a little assistance with your ‘name’ and model status would do wonders. And offer to wear her designs, give her exposure she needs.”

“You don’t think that will be too much? I mean - won’t she feel indebted to me even more for using me as a contact?”

Plagg raised an eyebrow. “This idea is better than secretly siphoning money from the account you use for that apartment in Bordeaux. Anonymously donating the money you earn from the rent to the Dupain-Cheng's, under mysterious circumstances, isn’t exactly full proof.”

Adrien bit his lip, looking away.

“Kid, tell me you weren’t thinking of doing that. Please tell me you weren’t going to do something _that_ dumb!”

“I … nevermind.”

“That’s what I thought.”

His chosen said nothing. He said nothing for several minutes. Plagg on the other hand was hungry and wasn’t in the mood for side-stepping things. He wanted to just get straight to the point. They had skirted around the ‘real’ issue, long enough.

“Another thing … Marinette kissed somebody else.” 

Adrien flinched. “D-don’t Plagg. I can’t deal with that just-”

“Kid. Don’t even try to hide it. I’m your kwami. I know things. I know you’re worried about Marinette being in debt. But this has been bugging you! Like really badly. And before you ask me how I know, I just do, okay. I know more than you’d expect. I could feel what you were thinking that night when we were on the bakery-roof; you’re my chosen after all. And I know that it wasn’t just the that kiss troubled you. It was what Marinette _said_ about that kiss.”

Adrien finally sighed in defeat, looking out into the rising sun that was turning Paris into a beautiful rose-old, dark shadows slowly dissipating to welcome a beautiful and brand new day. It would have been nice to look at; a symbol for a fresh start, had his heart not been so heavy with conflict.

Plagg flitted down onto Adrien’s lap, perching on the top of his thigh. “Don’t hide it kid. Marinette’s words got to you.”

“The way she told me how that ‘kiss’ happened. Whoever he was, he clearly cares about Marinette; adores her. And I … I just knew, she kissed that person because she wanted to. And he said that to her because … oh god, Plagg! There’s someone out there that loves Marinette. Perhaps he loves her more than me! Whoever he was, he knows how to make her happy! How? How could this happen? How could Marinette fall for someone else?” Adrien said sadly.

“Kid, first of all, don’t jump to conclusions.”

“Plagg, I could hear it in her voice. She loves that man.”

“And she regrets feeling anything for him because she loves _you_ even more! She hasn’t ‘fallen’ for someone else. Marientte isn’t the kind of person to be fickle with her emotions. I can easily tell by how sincere, earnest and distressed she sounded, under all the hacking, spluttering and fevered hallucinations. She truly regrets doing what she did for starters, and it’s killing her inside knowing that she’s hurt you. But more than that, she regrets hurting the other guy too. A girl like that can only be a very good and very kind-hearted person, easily swept away by emotions and the things happening around her, no matter how hard she believes she has the determination, let alone the ability, to control everything. Marinette, the girl you love so much, is too kind-hearted for her own good the more that I think about it. More than that, despite what she’s done I still think you should give her another chance.” Plagg admitted quietly.

“Plagg she …”

“I know she kissed someone else. That doesn’t excuse what she’s done to you or to the other guy but you deserve one another. Both of you deserve to be happy.”

“I don’t know how I’ll be able to face her as Adrien, once she gets better.”

“You do realise that you did the exact same thing, with Ladybug the other day. So pot calling the kettle black, you know you can’t really blame her. She’s in the exact same predicament as you are. And you two have to talk things through and be completely and brutally honest with each other. It’s the best solution to fix this mess. So not only should you give Marinette a chance … she should also be giving _you_ the opportunity to make things better.”

No matter how hurt he was, Adrien knew Plagg was right about this. Going against Plagg’s advice would only make him an idiot, let alone a hypocrite.

“I … I really don’t know how I’ll-” Adrien began but Plagg, surprisingly cut him off with a firm yet gentle voice.

“Think of it this way. Marinette still loves you very much. I’ll wager she’s not just in love with you; she’s _hopelessly_ in love with you. And you love her, right? To the point you only love Ladybug as your best friend and your partner?”

“Yes. I mean, I guess.”

Plagg raised an eyebrow. “You guess? Kid, you were practically professing your love for this ‘other girl’, to Marinette, to the point you sounded like you were assuring yourself rather than her, that you no longer love Ladybug.”

“Okay, yeah. I don’t love Ladybug anymore. I can’t. Not in the way I used to.”

“Still Ladybug kisses you. Then Marinette kisses this other guy. Spontaneously by the sounds of it, as if she wasn’t thinking. Ever considered the possibility that maybe there was something, I don’t know, that this guy said something to her that caused her to kiss him? Maybe you could try to one up him, win her back?”

Adrien scoffed a little, evergreen eyes sad. “Will it be enough?”

“How many times do I have to get it into your thick skull that she loves _you_ , and not this other guy.”

“He said something to her that made her kiss him and it got to her. He understands her. He knows all about Marinette, Plagg. That’s why I’m scared. That there’s someone out there who really _knows_ her; perhaps even better than I ever could.”

“Don’t let somebody else’s words get in the way of your happiness or hers. Let it go. Move forward.”

“It’s difficult. I mean he used the exact words on her; said the exact thing that I said.”

Plagg frowned. “What do you mean kid?”

“Marinette is perfect without trying. She’s perfect because she’s imperfect.”

The tiny cat gave a slow nod. “I get that. Don't forget that you said something similar to Ladybug to make her feel better, which by the way, you shouldn’t have. It’s why she kissed you in the first place! It was stupid of you; to be so careless with your words. Think next time befor you say things you don't mean."

"I wasn't being careless!' Adrien said crossly. "I meant what I said! I meant every word!"

Plagg groaned. "And this is why you are impossible to deal with! But that argument can be for another day. Anyway, what was it about this particular phrase this guy said to her that got to you??”

Adrien flushed but he continued, dejected. “Only _I’ve_ ever said those words to Mari. And now she’s kissed someone else who thinks the same way; who sees and loves exactly what I love about her. That’s going to be hard to win over.”

Plagg was quiet for a moment.

And then it dawned on him. Quite ironically considering the rising sun in the distance. Plagg suddenly realised just what his chosen was saying. And never had Plagg wished he was a considerably larger cat. His punches would have had a lot more effect. And the tiny cat really wanted nothing more to punch Adrien right off the edge of the building at that very moment.

It all made sense; perfect sense. Chat comforting Ladybug using the exact same words on his partner, out of love in the hopes of comforting her, Ladybug irrationally kissing Chat, Marinette’s sudden and surprising guilt-trip and confession towards kissing another man, whom she absolutely adored with all her heart because he was her most trusted and beloved _friend_ ; whom she loved just as much as Adrien. More than that, her own predicament had occurred at the exact same time as his chosen’s messy and impossible situation. It had to be more than just a coincidence! The timing was too perfect, everything was going wrong all at once with Ladybug and Chat, and Adrien and Marinette. 

Plagg had to find Tiki; he had to find her and ask for her help. And he had no doubt he would find her in a certain bakery. As a kwami, he could only sense as well as speculate, which girl Tiki had potentially chosen to be the miraculous holder and she with him, but that special sense only went so far. Neither of them truly never knew whom they had chosen; both of them sworn to secrecy like Adrien and Marinette to never truly reveal anything more than necessary. And after six long years of uncertainty, his suspicions had been correct. And they had been confirmed in the most stupid and annoyingly idiotic way possible! The tiny kwami felt angry at himself for not realising it sooner; he could have told his chosen, saved him as well as himself from all this unnecessary skirting around. Tiki’s presence was always strong whenever he went to the Dupain-Cheng bakery, hidden in Adrien’s clothes or evolved as Chat Noir. Her presence was even stronger when Marinette was around. Every puzzle piece was quickly falling into place and things were as clear as daylight. 

And Plagg wanted nothing more than to punch and kick his chosen stupid, and hurl him from the rooftop, until Adrien lay on a crumpled unconscious heap on the cobbled Parisian street below.

_Idiots!_ Plagg screamed internally, as he gave Adrien the coldest and darkest glare he could muster. _You two are IDIOTS!!!!!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for more heartache! Gah! These chapters are difficult to write. I feel like I'm going in circles because the more I develop the story, the more I realise our wonderful love square just loves to create complicated drama! Oh well. More Angst and sadness for you!


	38. Kwamis Undercover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This fanfiction is now rated Mature, thus is suitable for 'mature' audiences.

“Marinette?” Sabine popped her head through the trap door of her room. “A package just came with a cheque. It’s for you.”

Marinette paused her work, putting her sewing down on her desk so she could quickly adjust the mask her doctor had told her to wear. She wasn’t sure why she was continuing her university coursework, considering her ultimate decision last night. She still had things to take care before she completely dropped out.

“Sweetheart, you don’t need to wear that; not in front of me at least. The package is from the company you had to fill in that shoot for. I assume the cheque is your pay.”

Marinette blushed. “Oh - yeah. Um, they said they’d pay me.”

“That’s nice of them. Some pocket money. Maybe you can buy that new sewing machine you’ve always wanted.”

Marinette gingerly took the package from her mother, unable to look at her in the eyes. She wasn’t sure how much she had been paid, but every little bit helped, right? Marinette hated deceiving her parents like this but she had to help them; what she was doing was technically considered a ‘good’ thing. She was twenty-one after all, thus like her parents, she had to take responsibility for the bakery’s business and her home. There were a more than a couple of loans that had to be dealt with. She wasn’t expecting the cheque to be too much but she theorised it would be enough to pay it forward for at least one or even two of them. Once she had figured out a way to break the news to her parents on her decision on leaving university; she would start to work full-time at the dance studio. The sooner that happened, the sooner all of her family’s difficulties would be solved. 

It took Marinette another moment to realise another slight problem … she had yet to tell Tiki of her decision.

“Uh, yeah but still thinking about it.” Marinette said, a little too lamely. 

Unfortunately her mother’s kind eyes watched her daughter carefully and Marinette couldn’t help but being transparent, especially to a mother that was far too perceptive for your own good sometime. Marinette was an open book after all; her sad guilt-ridden expression more than enough for her mother to guess something was very wrong.

But Sabine couldn’t find it in her heart to reprimand her daughter. How could she when she was nothing but proud of her. Tom and Sabine had raised her to be good-natured, determined, an achiever. Never had they taught her to be selfless and incredibly kind-hearted, for they both knew from the moment she was born, she would be those things without even trying. 

“Marinette, it’s alright.” her mother said gently. “I know you want to help, but your father and I will manage somehow. This money is for you, you’ve earned it. Enjoy yourself. Or if you don’t want to spend it, invest it for the future. But please don’t use it to help us. I know you feel obligated and you’re old enough to make your own decisions but please … don’t do something drastic.”

Sabine’s voice was soft, kind, motherly and it pained Marinette knowing her decision to help would also cause ‘other’ problems, ones that couldn’t just be fixed with cash. She knew her mother was looking out for her, thinking with her loving heart like she always did. But Marinette’s head said her choice was for the best; she had made her decision to help her parents in anyway possible. If it meant having to suffer her parents disappointment as a result from leaving ESMOD, or at least defer for a year or two whilst saving her work earnings and any other payments, she would do so with her head held high.

“I … I … I can’t promise that, Maman. I’m sorry.” 

Marinette didn’t want to lie to her mother anymore than she had to. And it hurt Marinette even more knowing Sabine could not stop her, at least not with this. 

Sabine sighed sadly, kneeling so she became eye level with her daughter.

“I’m not going to ask how or why. Nor am I going to try to stop you from doing what ever you’re planning. I know you too well that no matter what I say or do, you’ll find a way to do things on your own. I’m your mother after all. But I must admit that frightens me; you taking on very big decisions and drastic measures to solve this.”

Marinette made an attempt to speak but Sabine held a hand up, gently stopping her daughter from saying anything else. She took the envelope with the banked cheque, opening it easily as she stared at the slip of paper. Marinette said nothing as she waited with anxious blue eyes at her mother’s reaction. Her mother merely smiled.

“Since I already know what you’re planning to do with this cheque how about I make a compromise. Whatever amount is on this piece of paper, we split it. Half of it is for you, spent only on you-”

“But-”

“Marinette …” 

“I … Okay.”

“And the other half is to go towards whatever you were planning to do with it. Alright? That’s my compromise.”

“Yes, Maman.” Marinette sighed in defeat, smiling slightly. Her mother returned that smile; it was full of warmth.

“Well then, enjoy spending your €800.” Sabine gave her daughter a kiss on the forehead, handing Marinette the cheque before leaving her room and closing the hatch.

Marinette could only sit quietly, staring flabbergasted at the neat _€1,600_ printed on the piece of paper. 

Tiki flitted from her hiding place.

“Marinette, your mother loves you. And I agree with her. You earned all that money from that one photoshoot. And the other €800 will be paid forward just like you wanted. Use the rest on yourself, just like your mother said.” her kwami said gently.

“But the money I could have-”

“Marinette, you made a promise to your mother on this. I for one, absolutely agree with her. Once you’re well enough to get back to work, you can start helping them.”

Marinette’s heart was heavy with guilt as she quietly tucked the cheque away in her draw and locking it, for safe keeping.

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll have my mum bank the cheque tomorrow. When I’m well enough I’ll deposit half of it into my iSaver. It will stay there until I figure out what I can spend it on.”

Tiki gave a happy smile. “Great Marinette! Now, what’s in that package-envelope thing?”

“I honestly have no idea. I mean, i think it feels like a book.” she said, as she made her way to her chaise.

Tiki perched on her chosen’s shoulder eager to know what was in the brown paper bag as her chosen’s slender pale hands undid the string to empty the contents. And Tiki’s bright blue eyes went wide, a surprised gasp falling from her lips.

Marinette on the other hand was silent, trembling hands hesitantly reaching to hold a copy of the dance catalogue she had participated in with Adrien, the front cover, a beautiful black and white image of them in each other’s arms; in a tender yet sensual embrace. It wasn’t just the catalogue; there were several A3 photograph prints, stunning, crisp and clean, capturing every precious and heart throbbing moment that they had shared. All of those moments, perfect, tender, erotic, suddenly came back to her. And she hadn’t been prepared for it. She wasn’t ready for this! Not now! Not after …!

“Marinette … you … you don’t have to look through these now, if you’re not ready.” Tiki said quietly.

Her chosen still said nothing. Instead, Tiki heard the sound of soft pitiful crying, Marinette shoulders beginning to shudder lightly from her tears.

“Oh, Marinette.”

Tiki’s heart ached with sadness for her chosen; Marinette’s heart truly couldn’t take anymore of this torment, especially this. Anything more, the tiny red kwami feared her chosen would never heal, she would only continue to slowly break piece by piece, the guilt and misery consuming her as they days wore on. Tiki flung into action, quickly fluttering down to gather the items clutched in Marinette’s hands. She couldn’t even bear to imagine Marinette’s response when the photographs and the official catalogue, were finally distributed; her love for Adrien and every intimate moment, publicly displayed for the entire population of Paris. Tiki knew she would have to get her chosen to speak to Chat Noir as her superhero counterpart, as quickly as possible. It was the only way to solve this and to receive the honesty and the closure she needed that would fix this entire mess. Only then would her heart begin to heal; perhaps even forgive, and thus allow herself to fall in love with Adrien again. Only then would Marinette learn to be happy once more.

Despite her size, the red kwami was still strong and she knew her chosen would despise herself later for ruining those photos with her tears. When she was ready, Tiki would return these photos, allowing her to look through them. Marinette let them slip from her fingers with very little resistance. She never looked away from her hands, which had fallen quietly into her lap. Easily carrying the package’s contents, Tiki quietly tucked them away in the draw next to the one with the cheque inside, before returning to her chosen who had curled in on herself, her legs against her chest, as she cried against the tops of her knees.

“Marinette. It’s going to be okay. I promise it’s all going to be okay.” Tiki said sadly, hugging the top of her chosen’s head.

 

——-

 

“You okay, kid.” Plagg asked from his chosen’s shoulder.

“Not really.” Adrien muttered.

“Kid, you know you’re gonna have to talk to her. To the both of them. As soon as possible. The longer you stay like this, leaving things the way they are … it’s just gonna make this entire thing a whole lot worse.”

“You don’t think I already know that Plagg? Ladybug hasn’t answered any of my texts from my baton. And you know Marinette is sick.”

“With fever or love-sick?”

“Both.”

“Kid, you’re gonna have to do what you have to do. No point in stalling.”

“What could I possibly say to either of them to make things right? How can I make things right? ”

Plagg grumbled. “Certainly by not sitting on your ass all day, staring all doe-eyed and miserable at those fricken photographs you got today.”

Adrien said nothing, hunching over as he turned away. Great. His chosen was in a ‘mood’ again. On top of being heartbroken, Adrien was also sulking like a spoiled child.

“Fine. Be that way. I’m gonna eat my Camembert.” Plagg said flippantly, silently fuming as he flitted out of the small bedroom.

Plagg easily followed the scent of his beloved cheese and sat down in a corner, grumbling as he ate.

_Idiots! This boyfriend/girlfriend relationship would be so much easier if the two of them weren’t idiots!_

 

_——-_

 

Tiki hated leaving her chosen, especially now of all times since Marinette was still quite sick. She was on the mend, thanks to s Tiki’s powers to heal as well as create and purify, as well as the medication. There were times Marinette had separated from her kwami for very brief periods of times, like doctors appointments. But this was different. For tonight, Marinette wasn’t the one that was leaving; it was Tiki. Marinette had thankfully fallen asleep and had left the latch of her skylight open to let some fresh air into her bedroom. Using the excuse that her chosen need to breathe in the clean air as she slept, the tiny kwami made a mad dash, quickly escaping into the night.

No one saw her. But if people peered carefully into the night sky, squinting their eyes in concentration, they would have seen a tiny flittering red glow; faint and soft, sweep through the air as it headed towards the park, opposite the Dupain-Cheng bakery. The night was dark, much of the park was bathed in shadow and Tiki sighed in relief. No one would be able to find her if she kept to the shadows, and stayed mostly still.

Hovering and settling on top of a nearby maple tree, she waited quietly. She could sense he was near, very near. Since Tiki’s last chosen, Marinette’s miraculous predecessor, the small red kwami had not seen Plagg for over ninety years, since the Second World War; a terrible time when France was occupied by the Nazis. Both of their miraculous holders had died in each others arms, lives cut short as they battled and fought in the Resistance. It still pained both kwami’s knowing that their beloved chosen ones had died in such a way. They were heroes in a desperate and horrifying time, their names long forgotten as both kwami’s watched heartbroken together as the bodies of their chosens were carted carelessly and dumped into a mass grave long with other resistance members. Since then, Tiki and Plagg vowed that they would never lose another chosen to such a battle. Their chosen would live long and prosperous lives, happy, loved, and safe from traumatic heart-ache.

The past few weeks Tiki was beginning to wonder if she was failing that promise.

“Hey Spot.” he drawled slowly, flitting down next to her.

Tiki gave a chirp of delight as she gave the tiny black cat and tight hug. 

“It’s you! It’s been so long!”

“You’re killing me, woman!” Plagg choked, flailing his arms. 

Tiki rolled her bright blue eyes, continuing to hug him. She truly had missed him. They were a bonded pair after all, meant to be together, always aware of each others presences, thoughts and emotions; they were soulmates.

Finally she let him go and Plagg growled. But even in night, Plagg’s bright green eyes shone fondly at her. It didn’t take much to see through his aloof and disinterested facade. Plagg was just as happy to see her as she was with him.

“You called me here tonight. Though I’m happy for the reunion, this is highly unorthodox. You know very well we’re not supposed to reveal ourselves. Not until our chosens finally learn about each others secret identity.”

“I know the rules, Tiki. But the rules also say, we can meet each other secretly, in case of an emergency.”

Tiki frowned, suddenly very concerned. “Is there a problem? Is something wrong? What’s happened?”

Plagg growled. “A bloody _cat_ -tastrophe is what’s happened.”

“One, language! Two, leave the puns for Chat Noir. What’s the emergency you’ve had to call me out like this? Has something happened to your chosen? Is he hurt?”

Plagg gave Tiki a hard look as he spoke. “Tiki, I know who you’re chosen is.”

Tiki’s bright blue eyes went wide with shock, suddenly realising the gravity of the situation. Wait, what? How could he know? Even Tiki had her suspicions on whom Plagg’s chosen was; her kwami intuition and her ability to sense Plagg whenever ‘Chat Noir’ was near’ only strengthened her beliefs but it was much too soon. Even a kwami couldn’t know absolutely … at least, not yet. This was not good! For the sake and safety of their chonsens, this was much too soon. 

“W-what? Already? But how-” 

“It’s Marinette, Tiki. Don’t lie to me. And I already know, that _you_ know who _my_ chosen is. Don’t try to deny it. You’re only kidding yourself.” Plagg’s voice was flat as he crossed his tiny arms, cat ears twitching and quivering against him.

“I … it’s Adrien. Isn’t it?” Tiki sighed in defeat. There was no point in lying. One, she hated lies herself. Two, truth be told, although she could keep a secret, she was terrible at lying.

“Ding, ding! We have a winner people!” Plagg said sarcastically and Tiki gave him a whack across his chest.

“Ouch!”

“You deserved it. You haven’t changed at all.” She said.

“Neither have you.” he replied. “But anyway, you get why I had to call you here. This is an emergency. And a big one.”

“I’m surprised you’re involving yourself in this. You’ve always hated anything to do with the ‘emotional’ side of our chosens. This is very unlike you, getting concerned over this. Secondly, this is bad reason to call me here. Unless life threatening, you know we are forbidden to directly fix any problems our chosen ones experience, specifically ones that occur in their civilian lives.”

“Since when have you ever followed the rules, Tiki. I certainly don’t.”

“Okay, you have me there. But, what’s happening with Marinette and Adrien-”

“Will not blow over until both of them get their heads out of their asses! Everything is one big mess because your chosen refuses to reveal her true identity, my chosen is love sick for a ‘Princess’ he can’t have because he doesn’t know that, that same Princess, is also the Lady he has been pining over since he was fifteen, and stupidly ‘kissed’ on that one god-damn awful day, which also happened to cause this whole thing in the first place. And I have no doubt your chosen is struggling with her own feelings since she doesn’t know whether she has the right to continue her relationship with her model boyfriend, or dump him for cheating on him with her feline superhero who just happens to also be that model boyfriend under the mask.”

Tiki’s mouth fell open. “Since when were you this perceptive. I’m actually impressed.”

“Give me some credit. My head hurts just from trying to simplify everything into a comprehensible and somewhat stupidly pathetic, explanation. It’s taken me all day to come up with that.”

Tiki gave a groan of frustration, rubbing one of her tiny hands to her face. Despite the terrible risk of getting ‘too’ involved with the problems of their chosens, Plagg was right about this.

“Alright. I’m beginning to see how this is an emergency. And considering just what Adrien and Marinette are like as individuals-”

Plagg nodded in agreement. “Their too kind-hearted and selfless nature practically cloud their ability to reason and process the obvious. I’ve diagnosed _‘blind stupidity’_. This emotionally-angsty and guilt-ridden love square is never gonna get fixed. Unless we step in, our chosens will forever be stuck in a rut what some might call puppy love.”

“You actually think that about your chosen, Plagg?” Tikiw as still amazed. She always knew Plagg cared each and every one of his chosens, with all of his heart. But he wasn’t the type to openly admit it, let alone share and express how he felt towards them. He preferred to remain aloof. And only Tiki knew he did so as way to protect himself; Plagg had lost too many ‘kittens’ in his long life to such horrible circumstances. He had lost far more chosen than she had. Very few of them had lived long and good lives; the power of darkness, destruction and bad luck was a powerful and hurtful burden to hold. 

“Even I can admit that I care for my chosen, Tiki.”

Tiki shook her head. “This is different. Adrien is different. And you know that. You’re actually really fond of him. It doesn’t take a genius to tell that you’ve invested a lot of your time with this boy.”

“If you mean offering advice … then yeah. i guess I have. But the same can be said with you. Marinette is special.” Plagg admitted, giving a slight grin of his fangs. It was a grin, which Tiki returned, thought not as mischievous but just as warm, as she remembered the happy memories spent with the beautiful sapphire-eyed girl.

“Yes. She is special. Both of them are. And I hate seeing and knowing both of them are incredibly unhappy at the moment. Along with some other matters, this has actually made Marinette sick.”

“I know and suspected as much. She looked very bad when Adrien last saw her. Hence why we have to do something about these two hopeless love birds who can’t get their act together. ‘Love birds’ … whoever came up with that must have had a weird and insulting obsession with feathers.”

“And what would you call them?” Tiki asked him, wary of his answer.

“Well I think our chosens are _‘absolute morons’_ , but that’s just my opinion.”

Tiki glared at him.

“You asked.”

“Alright. Okay. So what are we gonna do? We can’t reveal their identities to one another. That’s too dangerous; you know that and I know that. Of all the rules we can break, we can’t commit that cardinal sin. But it’s clear we’re gonna have to give them a … helpful push, as you will. Both of them are as you say, ‘too kind-hearted and selfless’, as well as guilty right now to think straight. They’re so concerned about hurting each other, whether as civilians or their superhero counterparts that everything is going up in shambles.”

“Wasn’t gonna suggest the former. But we have to do _something._ And that something has to get the two of them together again, be completely honest about all that’s happened between them. Once they solve their differences, they can get back to being all lovey-dovey and body-groping and then everything will be all hunky dory! And it better happen soon! Weeks of all this angst is making me lose my appetite for Camambert … almost.”

Tiki went quiet for a moment. Thinking hard. They needed a plan that would work like clock-work. It had to be simple. More importantly, it had to have as little involvement as possible from both kwamis. This was a delicate situation; one Tiki knew she shouldn’t be meddling with. But in order to ensure the happiness of their chosens something had to be done. 

“Plagg, you can manipulate Chat Noir’s costume right? Add features, enhancements, like I can?” Tiki said suddenly, bright big eyes, curious.

Plagg gave a slight frown, bright green eyes glinting in the shadows. “I can. What of it, Spot?”

“Can you extend that to his weapon? His baton? Like I can with Ladybug’s yoyo?”

“Course. But how’s that gonna help us? What’s a few weapon upgrades gonna do? They gonna battle each other to the death? Knock some sense into each other? ‘Cus it’s gonna take a lot more than that to fix these two.”

“I’m not saying we upgrade their weapons. But we do have the power to make their weapons do a little extra.”

“I … I don’t follow.”

“I’m thinking Chat needs to send Ladybug a certain and very urgent message from his baton, requiring him at the Eiffel Tower. The same goes for Ladybug.”

“What? For a talk?”

Tiki gave a mischievous smile and Plagg couldn’t help but grin in return. He loved her smile. 

“Not a talk. I was thinking along the lines of a _dance._ ”

Although the entire plan hadn’t quite formulated yet, the tiny black cat was slowly beginning to comprehend the genius of the red bug’s plan. Plagg remained silent as his grin grew wider and wider, the hint of his fangs flashing beneath his lips.

”See. This is why you’re amazing, kwami.”

Tiki looked smug. “Oh I know. I am the most amazing genius to have existed in thousands of years.”

“Don’t push it.”

“But it’s fun that way.”

Plagg rolled his eyes but he continued to smile as he spoke, voicing his final concern to his companion.

“We have another problem though. Regardless if this gets fixed, Adrien and Marinette still have to figure out a way to help her parents with their bills and debts. And with Marinette dropping out of university she’s-”

_“What.”_

The flat and horrified disbelief in Tiki’s voice made Plagg pause mid-sentence. He gave the red bug an odd look. Tiki on the other hand could only stare at him with cold and very angry eyes, her mouth pressed in a thin, disappointed line. She was more than displeased. And Plagg knew he royally screwed up at that very moment.

_“Shit.”_ Plagg whispered. “Marinette hasn’t told you yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally - things are gonna get resolved. Writing angst is so hard! I miss writing about sexy body-rolling! <3\. Bonus - have some subtle Plagg x Tikki!


	39. I Don't Want To Cry Anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This fanfiction is now rated Mature, thus is suitable for 'mature' audiences.

“So did you ever figure out what’s wrong with Adrien?” Alya asked Nino as they sat together in the coffee shop. It was late in the afternoon, and few people were in the café. Sitting in a quiet corner, at the very back, the two of them talked as Alya snuggled against her boyfriend. It was Nino’s last week or rather a little over than a week, in Paris and Alya intended to spend every waking and sleeping moment by his side. 

Nino shook his head, brown eyes rolling to the sky as he groaned.

“The dude’s been off about something. Like _really_ off about something, and that something is Marinette. When I asked him about it he just gave me this glare that could launch a thousand ships in sheer panic. He actually hissed at me! I tried to get him to talk to me about it. I know I don’t offer the best of advice but I thought talking about it, getting it off his chest, might help relieve the tension … or at the very least, get him to stop scowling.” Nino sighed.

“Did he?”

“He slammed the door right in my face.”

“Didn’t Kim and Max try to help you?”

“They did the day before. I wasn’t there to see it happen but after Kim tried to ‘intervene’, he got so scared, his fear is now permanently plastered on his face.”

“What’s gotten him so moody all of a sudden?! Something must have happened between Marinette and him. Neither of them have been seen at the dance studio. Marinette has somewhat recovered now. I would have thought both of them would have jumped into each others arms the moment she wasn’t contagious. But I haven’t seen the two of them together since the last akuma attack.”

“Could they have had a fight or something? I mean, yeah, the first fight can be pretty awful. But we’ve pretty much established, relationships aren’t perfect. Even the seemingly sugary ones. Maybe they’re in shock after that, you know, both of them unused to being angry and scornful with one another.” Nino offered but Alya shook her head resolutely.

“No. Marinette would have called me straight away, sobbing most likely. But she hasn’t. In fact, she’s hardly spoken to me this week and I know she’s gotten her voice back. She just sends me texts, saying she’s ‘ _too busy with things’,_ saying she has a lot of stuff to sort out. She hasn’t told me what. Marinette’s practically been distancing herself away from me and I have no idea why.”

‘Did you go to her house by any chance?”

“She wouldn’t see me. Her mom told me she wasn’t feeling well. By the sound of her voice I could tell something was wrong. Tried sneaking up but that didn’t work.” Alya said glumly, as she rested her chin in her hands.

“Man … whatever’s happened between the two of them … it must have been pretty intense.”

“More than that, just as I was about to leave, her mum told me she was really worried about Mari. Sabine thinks Marinette is about to make a terrible decision but she doesn’t know what. Sabine made Marinette promise not to do anything drastic, urging her to think things through, but she she’s still concerned. I’m really worried. You know how Marinette gets.”

Nino’s brown eyes creased with concern behind his glasses. “Wow. Things must be _really_ bad if it’s affecting the both of them like this.”

“I hate seeing Marinette like this. She’s always so happy, optimistic and determined. And she loves being around people. Seeing her like this; so closed-off and distant is really starting to scare me. There has to be something we can do to help them.”

But Nino shook his head. “Look, I know you want to help. You’ve tried. I’ve tried, with Adrien. Max and Kim have tried him too. Even her parents have talked to her. But I think it’s better if we take a step back from this one. Let Marinette and Adrien sort things out.”

Alya scoffed. “Like that’s gonna happen! I’m not leaving Marinette out on a limb. I’m her best friend! And as the best friend, I annoy and bully her until I’m certain she’s okay.”

Nino rolled his eyes, smiling slightly but took his girlfriend’s hand, squeezing it gently. 

“I know, I know! I know you care about Marinette. It’s admirable; how far you go when it comes to helping your friends. But really Alya, you and I both have to back off on this one. If the two of them have truly argued, they have to fix things on their own. It’s just the way things are. Neither of us may see it as ‘better that way’ but we have to accept that. They have to learn from their own mistakes, work things out together. That’s something that has to be done privately, just between the two of them. No matter how we feel or think, it’s their decision … it’s their life. Not ours. I’m not saying a little helpful advice or a reality check here and there, isn’t justified. But these two are clearly at the critical point where even even we can’t do anything about it.”

Alya leaned back into her chair, gazing at her boyfriend curiously but she never let go of his hand.

“That was incredibly profound. I’m surprised.” she commented. “If I remember correctly, you were always the very worst when it came to dating advice, let alone dating itself.”

Nino chuckled sheepishly, a blush tinting his cheeks. “Give me some credit here. You can’t deny that my reasoning is sound though.”

“As much as I hate to admit it, yes. I understand.” Alya groaned in defeat. Honestly, she hated feeling useless. Especially when it came to her best friend. She was Alya after all; always there to help Marinette get back on her feet.

“But I swear, if Adrien’s said or done something to Marinette that’s hurt her in any shape or form, you can’t stop me from ensuring he won’t be able to produce children.”

Nino visibly winced, crossing his legs at the image. 

“From what I gathered, I assume it’s all a misunderstanding. A big messy misunderstanding. I mean, this is Adrien and Marinette after all. If they’ve had an ‘argument’ I doubt that it’s over something extreme.” he assured her.

“You’re right about that. Adrien and Marinette are hopeless romantics; both always seeing the best in each other. I’m even surprised that they managed to get to the stage of ‘angry’. I mean, they’re relationship is … or was, I should say … so perfect. Seeing those two together was so sugary sweet, it made my teeth ache.”

“Interesting analogy but I get where you’re coming from. Marinette always idolised Adrien when we were fifteen and that hopeless crush of hers only grew until she knew nothing else. She thinks the whole world of him. Adrien on the other hand has become so smitten with Mari. More than that, he would throw his life away without a second thought, if it meant protecting her. He’s not the type to yell, get man or cross at others. He's usually a passive and steady guy, and if he does, it’s to protect her and he’d be screaming at someone else. Neither of them would hurt each other intentionally.”

“You know, they’re relationship sounds a little, too perfect.” Alya mused, biting her lip. “No wonder this so-called argument of theirs has really gotten to them. Something must have happened, maybe something was said or done to cause this ‘misunderstanding', to come out of no where. This causes the both of them to start disliking the situation and since neither of them have had experience in the more horrible side of a relationship, they don’t know how to handle it, let alone solve it.”

“First argument is considered one of the _Top Worst_ arguments to have between couples after all.” Nino said quietly.

Both of them were quiet as they sat together, thinking about their best friends.

“Remember the first time we fought? I mean, as a couple?” she said softly.

Alya felt the tips of Nino’s fingers gently stroke the top of her hand. The touch was tender, comforting, forgiving, just like he always was with her.

“Yeah. I mean, the times when we argued as friends before always messed me up but that day …” Nino’s voice trailed off as he recalled the painful memory.

“It was over something really stupid. Something about being disinterested in each other’s hobbies? Me, with the Ladyblog. You, with your music?”

“Something like that.”

“Yeah - that week was really … really horrible.” 

“And how did we fix things after that?”

“I think it went something along the lines of, no matter how much we tried to hate each other, regardless of the number of attempts we tried to ignore and not speak to each other; not being together was the worse thing. We kinda just saw each other one ordinary day and I practically jumped you as I cried. You were so surprised that you fell over and we smashed a vase in the process.”

Nino gave a soft laugh. “It’s scary now that I think about, that’s exactly what happened. Both of us ended up going to the hospital to get stitches.”

“I still have the scar on my shoulder.”

“Same, but mine’s on -”

“- your right arm, just below your wrist.”

Both of them were silent, smiling to themselves as they held each others hands. Both of them were so in tune, so in sync, simply being in each other’s presence, easy, comfortable, gentle. It took a lot just to get to this stage, years of pain, fighting, misunderstandings, anger and tears, but being in a relationship meant having to deal with the many ups and downs. They both knew that. This was a two way battle. A difficult one that had to be fought together. And extraordinarily perfect moments, rare and beautiful would blossom from the harder and more painful times. They had and would overcome all obstacles; not put their differences aside but work through them instead, one step at a time, then rewarded with precious moments such as this one.

“Now that I think about it, we’re probably the worst couple Adrian and Marinette should ask advice from.” Alya said to her boyfriend, turning to him so she could snuggle closer to him. He wrapped his arms around her in a tight and protective embrace.

“We’ve had our ups and downs. We’re not perfect. We’re probably far from it. But we’ve come to accept that. I don’t know if our relationship can be described as a sane or healthy one. But with what we’ve been through together in the past and what we intend on getting through in the future … so far it’s been a great ride. A crazy one; but still great.” Nino responded, reaching up to stroke the side of Alya’s face, his fingertips, gently playing with the tendrils of her soft brown hair.

“As much as I hate to admit it … you can be really romantic sometimes.” Alya grumbled, a soft blush tinting her face. His words had left butterflies in her stomach and had sent her heart throbbing erratically in her chest. How and when had the stiff, awkward boy from the time they were in middle school changed into a beautiful and exceptionally honest man, who had this strange yet incredible talent for completely sweeping her off her feet, whilst driving her to absolute insanity half of the time?

“Only when it comes to you.” Nino chuckled, lightly bopping her on the nose, nudging her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“How do you do it?” She asked quietly. “You make it sound and look so easy … it’s … um … well, a-amazing.”

Her boyfriend gave a slight frown. “Easy? What’s easy?”

“You. Talking … no - I mean … being honest. Saying all these w-wonderful things and - I mean … don’t get me wrong, I love it b-but … no, that’s not what I’m-” Alya babbled, suddenly at a loss for words when Nino’s surprised hazel eyes suddenly melted, softening into an intense yet tender gaze, as he looked at his girlfriend.

_Oh my god!_ She was babbling! Alya Césaire was actually struggling to form a coherent sentence. Not just in front of her boyfriend, but her closest friend! When was she ever at a lost for words?! She always knew what to say; she practically spoke her mind, with confidence, determination and ease; whilst she blatantly disregarded other peoples’ negativity towards her ‘outspoken’ behaviour.

Alya groaned, utterly humiliated as she buried her face in her hands. “This is so embarrassing. I’m pulling a Marinette.”

Nino was quiet for a moment, a smile gracing his lips. Alya could be so adorable without meaning to. Those moments were few considering Alya’s confidence and brashness towards things. Seeing her so flustered was so heartwarming.

“It’s not easy. Admitting and talking about my feelings.” Nino confessed. “You might think I make it sound easy but believe me, I still struggle with it. Like, all the time. I guess the reason why I make it sound so easy is because, I know something like being honest and completely open about more personal subjects, would be a lot more difficult for you than it is to me.”

Alya hesitantly peeked up from her hands, her head cocking to the side in confusion.

“What I’m trying to say is, how I feel towards being honest with you, the things I want to say, I guess I challenge myself. Despite how hard it is, I know without that communication - without the effort of communicating - there will always be some misunderstanding, especially between the two of us if we don’t. It’s hard. I don’t deny that. But I try. That’s all I can hope.”

Alya thought for a moment, looking at her hands, which Nino easily took into his own.

“Hey, look at me.”

Warm honey hazel met dark chocolate brown, their gazes loving, if a little shy.

“We have problems. Adrien and Marinette are having problems right now. Everyone has problems. But we try. It takes time to overcome those difficulties when we ‘try’, I guess, but we still do it. But … yeah.”

“You’re really eloquent today.’

Nino laughed, “Nah - I’m just saying what kept going through my head the three, long, miserable years of not being with you.”

“I - well, I guess that could have helped. I guess, what I’m trying to say, or rather, ask you is …” Alya trailed off.

“What’s up? You know you can ask me anything.”

“Could you, maybe teach me how to be more … h-honest with you. I’ve been struggling, like, a lot! N-nothing seems to work. And I get, well … I g-get scared on how you’ll react to me, talking about things.”

Nino smiled, leaning in. Alya’s eyes went wide yet she didn’t pull away when Nino’s lips captured her own. He kissed her deeply, and she found herself moaning into the kiss, her arms, immediately wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer.

When he pulled away, she gave a pout, whimpering at the loss, but the tips of their noses still brushed against each other, cheeks tinted by warm blushes.

“I don’t think you need my help for that.” he murmured against her lips. 

He stared longingly into beautiful eyes. They stared back in slight confusion.

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“No, but this is.”

And Nino leaned in, capturing Alda’s soft sweet lips with his own once again. A hand lightly trailed up her back, hesitantly playing with the edge of her camisole.

“Woah, cowboy.” she whispered against his lips, eyes hazy with newfound lust. “Just because there aren’t many people here, doesn’t give us the right to jump each other wherever and whenever we want, which fucking sucks.”

“Language, Alya.”

“Screw you.”

“Preferably somewhere a lot more comfortable and more private; that way, I don’t feel bad for being really loud.”

“We don’t have plans tonight. What say we grab some Chinese takeout from the shop across the street and head home for a couple of rounds before dinner?”

“Sounds like the perfect date.”

“Then it’s settled; sex, more sex, kung pao chicken, and chicken and black bean with rice, followed my a nice shower together, with more sex after that?”

“Too bad we don’t have any fancy dessert at your studio.” Nino gave a mournful yet mocking sigh, his eyes just as hungry, behind his dark framed glasses.

“I have chocolate and strawberry flavoured warming gel. Bought it today.” Alya offered, a mischievous glint in her eyes, as she smirked.

Nino groaned at the sudden provocative and incredibly heated imagery that flashed, vivid and clear in his head. And all of that heat went south. The very thought of using that gel on Alya; of Alya using it on _him,_ was far too much, especially in a quiet, innocent little café such as this.

“You able to walk home with your new ‘friend’?” Alya’s voice was teasing, as she glanced down at the sudden tent her boyfriend had made.

“You’ll be the death of me, woman. Help me think of something to get this down!” he glared, trying to envision anything other than his girlfriend, naked, moaning, wet and open on the bedsheets, in the hopes of control his embarrassing and throbbing hard on.

“The things I’m thinking of to ‘help’ you right now, wouldn’t involve rubbing and stroking you until you behave, would they? I mean, this table’s high enough. No one would really see.”

Nino flinched, the bulge now significantly much larger and far more obvious. He certainly couldn’t walk out of the café looking like this! 

_"You are not helping!”_

 

_\-----_

 

“Marinette, since you’re much better, I feel like you should go on patrol tonight. You’ve been in this room for far too long, which is doing nothing to help you whilst you’re on the mend.” Tiki suggested to her chosen, as she caught up with some dance orders from Stüdaria. 

“You need the exercise, and more importantly, the fresh air. It will do you good.”

“I - I don’t -“ Marinette began but Tiki cut her off swiftly, with her advice ready on hand. 

“You’ve been inside all day. And you ‘getting better’ should not be an excuse to stop being Ladybug. You have to patrol. I know you don’t want to see Chat Noir; I know you’re afraid that you’ll bump into him. But one; it’s unlikely that you will. Two; if you did - you know you’re going to have to settle your differences and apologise for these turn of events sooner or later. The longer you leave this hanging, the worse it will get. And three: you have to get out! How can you expect to ensure a fast road to recovery if you don’t get fresh air and exercise. I’m not saying you should do anything too strenuous when you’re Ladybug, but an hour of light patrolling at the most would be very good for your current condition.”

Tiki watched Marinette falter, slowly taking in her words. From the defeated yet still very concerned look that graced Marinette’s freckled face, her chosen was very reluctant to going outside, but knew this was an argument she could not win. 

“Alright.” Marinette sighed, quickly saving her work before shutting down her computer.

_“Tiki! Spots on!”_

Thus, Marinette leapt off of her balcony, soaring through the rooftops, clad in her signature vivd red and black-spotted cat suit. It was coming close to evening, the sky turning a soft dusky shade of red, with the setting sun. The city was beginning to cool into the night, as Ladybug ran across the rooftops, the wind lapping at her face, she couldn’t help but feel exhilarated from the sensation of running. She had almost forgotten how much she enjoyed soaring past the chimney stacks and tumbling over the Parsian architecture. There was something very freeing about it, something she often compared it with not only running but leaving one’s troubles behind them, if just for a little while. 

Since the last akuma attack, Marinette had avoided becoming her superhero counterpart. One, she had been far too ill to even consider getting out of bed. Two, the guilt of knowing she could have prevented a crisis so terrible whilst those she cared about suffered for her mistake, it had just been too much. She was meant to be a superhero and superheroes never failed. Or at least, that’s what she had thought until Chat had said otherwise; that she was perfectly imperfect, that all she needed to do was try. Marinette hadn’t been ready to see him as Ladybug. Not after what she had done to him and to Adrien. She could never forgive herself for doing something so selfish and incredibly stupid. And now Chat Noir was hurting. He probably hated her so much and she couldn’t find it in her heart to make things right with him. She deserved nothing less than his disappointment. And she was too afraid to face him. In all honesty she was too much of a coward and the shame of that only added to the aching and empty sadness she had felt the past week.

Ladybug’s heart raced as she zip-lined across the streets with her yoyo, surveying her home, watching its inhabitants. Paris seemed safe. Safer than it had ever been three weeks ago. Cars blared their horns, bicycle and shop bells rung their sharp shrill sound, people walked too and fro, stopping to chat with other passers by. The park trees were green, and the flowers were in full bloom. Paris looked perfect; normal. The sight should have been a comfort to her, heart-warming. This had been her home since the day she was born, and she hoped it would continue to be the world where she could start a future.

But out on patrol alone, looking at the Parisian people from the vantage point high above Notre Dame, she felt tears well in her eyes. She had let so many people down; the civilians, her friends, her parents and now her boyfriend Adrien, and her partner, Chat Noir. Everything had rightened in the city without her help. As Paris continued to live its exciting bustling life without ever realising the presence of the red and black-spotted heroine, Ladybug had never felt more alone and empty as she did now.

Soon the stone beneath her feet began to darken with with speckled drops, as soft silent tears fell from bright blue sapphire eyes. So much for running and wanting to escape her troubles; they had easily followed close behind and they now weighed heavily on her heart. 

“I … I d-don’t want to cry anymore!” she whispered to herself, her hands clenching at her sides. 

“I don’t want to be sad! Why?! Why do I keep messing up?! Why can’t I just be happy again?! I just want things to be right! Is that so much to ask?!”

Voice quiet, her question was only met with silence. Ladybug expected no less, angrily wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. She didn’t want to cry. She didn’t want to be sad. Not anymore. She was exhausted. She just wanted to be happy again, for things to be right. All this heartache, all of her mistakes; they were hurting her. They were hurting too much. Without Chat by her side … without A _drien,_ she had no one that could hold her, to ground her and keep her sane, make her feel safe. There was no one to keep her from falling to pieces; to stop her from breaking. No. She was already broken. And tired. She was so tired. She just-

_Brrrrrrrrr!_

Ladybug gave a jump, quickly looking down to her side at her vibrating yoyo. And she felt her stomach turn, the feeling nauseating. There was only one person who knew her number when she transformed. She didn’t have the courage let alone the rhyme nor reason to speak to him. She couldn’t even bear to face him; not after what she had done to him. What could she say? What would she tell him to make things better? It was clear that she only knew how to make things worse.

But Tiki’s soft and stern words from a hour ago echoed in her head. 

_You have to talk to him; you have to make things right with Chat. Closure, Marinette. Closure. It doesn’t matter if you don’t have the courage. It’s the right thing to do. For him and for yourself. You must talk to him._

Despite what she felt, her exhaustion, the disappointment she felt towards herself, despite so many horrible possibilities of Chat never wanting to see her ever again, Tiki was right. She had to do this. She had to talk to him. It was going to be difficult; maybe the hardest thing she would ever have to do in her entire life but regardless of that, it had to be done. She didn’t know if she could fix things; she certainly had no idea how to make something like this better, even if she tried. But she had to talk to him, to be completely honest with her partner, even if it was the last thing that she ever did with him. It was the right thing to do.

With a quivering hand, she took the yoyo from her side, taking a deep breath. She had to be ready. 

Ladybug quickly opened her yoyo and a rush of air fell from her lips. She heaved a sigh of relief. Though the heroine could only assume its content would do nothing to settle the anxious despair, she couldn’t help but feel a little grateful for avoiding to speak directly with her partner at that very moment.

  * **Ladybug. We have to talk. No more excuses. Meet me at the Eiffel Tower. 5:00.**



Marinette frowned behind her mask. The message was short, to the point, openly frank that it left her discomforted. Though she knew the message spoke the truth, it was highly unlike him to send something so short and direct. He had addressed her as Ladybug. Not as LB. Not _My Lady._ But Ladybug. 

Furthermore, the small digital clock on her yoyo’s computer screen read four-thirty. Would she even make it in time?

Ladybug quickly zipped her yoyo, throwing it far across the rooftops, watching the wire extend and catch onto a street lamp. 

“Well, here goes nothing.” she murmured softly, feeling the string of her yoyo go taught from the tension, mirroring the sickening knot that twisted deep in her abdomen. 

And Ladybug jumped from her stone platform, feeling the warm air rush past her skin.

Unknowingly to the black-dotted hero, a certain black feline raced away, from patrolling the Lourve and as fast as he his claws could take him. All the while he struggled to ignore his own aching heart that had been left hurt by the clipped, brusque message Ladybug had left him on his baton; asking him to meet at the famous Parisian landmark, fifteen minutes ago. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Another chapter! I promise - it's gonna get better after this! No more angst! Until I fix our hopeless love square, have a bit more DJWifi <3 
> 
> Sorry for the longer delay of chapters but the reason for the delay is I have a job again! I'm earning money! So how I write these chapters is, I do a little every night until I get a good solid chapter to post. Usually like 3-4 paragraphs a night. Unfortunately I can't go back to my original writing ethic, where I'd just sit down and write for the entire day. I have less time to write now because when I'm not at work, I have to continue working on my design portfolios. That and clean the house and shop for groceries. I promise, this fanfiction will be finished! It's my baby! I can't just leave it! and all of you have supported me, and kept me going. Finishing this work is the least I can do! 
> 
> xoxoxo!


	40. Forgiveness - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This fanfiction is now rated Mature, thus is suitable for 'mature' audiences.

The spotted hero landed on the top level of the Eiffel Tower, balancing easily on the safety metal grating that covered the entire platform. The few onlookers and tourists that were present gave gasps of surprise and delight to see Paris’ famed heroine. They eagerly began to snap photos of her, asking for her picture. Ladybug didn’t have the heart to tell them not to but she honestly wasn’t in the mood for pleasant talk. Her heart was far too sore for it. Despite the terrifying drop down, the height didn’t fear her, as she held onto the grating, gesturing for one of the tour guides over, whose eyes were shining with excitement.

“Hey, um - I have to talk to Chat Noir, my partner, very soon. In private. I was told to meet him here. Is there a way to-” she asked quietly, gesturing to the buzzing fans and civilians, eager for her photograph and a few words of acknowledgement.

“Of course, Ladybug. Anything for you. Just let me talk to the manager. I’ll see what I can do.” she said, giving an eager smile.

“Thanks.” Ladybug gave a half hearted smile, watching the tour guide leave.

As she waited, Ladybug tried her best to intermingle with her fans. She often loved their excitement, their encouragement it helped her get through the years as a superhero. But she couldn’t help but feel slightly glad for the metal grating that separated her from everyone else. Not to say it wasn’t the safest place to be. She was hanging dangerously and precariously off the side of the tallest monument in all of Paris, with nothing but her hands gripping on the metal fencing, her toes balancing on the slight lip that jutted out from the main platform. Right now, she had to fix things, her mind set towards talking to Chat. Being around fans did little to settle her nerves. 

The tour guide came back with several ushers, who politely asked civilians and tourists to leave the premises.

“I’ve spoken to my manager. He’s able to close off the top floor of the Eiffel Tower for thirty minutes. Is that enough time for you?”

“That’s fine. I - I think Chat and I will be finished by then.”

“Of course.” And she left, helping her colleagues gather the remaining stragglers to the elevator.

In ten minutes Ladybug found herself alone, and she easily climbed up the grating, letting herself through the open skylight at the very top.

From the very top of the Eiffel tower, she could see everything. It was a beautiful evening. Paris was always beautiful, regardless of the rain, sun, hair, stormy clouds or snow that either fell or shone from the sky. The evening was too reminiscent of the late afternoon, Ladybug had kissed her partner.

No later than five minutes later, she heard him land softly on top of the metal grating, before quickly jumping down onto the platform, behind her.

“My Lady.” he said softly. Even with her back turned, she knew he was bowing.

Ladybug breathed, pinching her nose between her forefinger and thumb briefly trying to make sense of her words. It was going to be difficult, pouring her heart out to him, telling him everything, her true feelings … being completely honest. But as Tiki had said, this was something that could no longer be avoided. Both of them deserved the closure no matter how painful.

“Chat, we need to talk.”

Chat’s green eyes were dull, his mouth pressed into a thin line. His usual straight and somewhat cocky posture was gone; it had been replaced my slumped shoulders and a lack of confidence. Even with his mask on, she could guess the dark circles beneath his eyes. Chat looked so exhausted and so sad. And she had been the cause of it.

With a long weary sigh, Chat finally answered. “I agree. We … we have so much we need to talk about.”

“About what happened after the last akuma attack.”

Chat flinched slightly, wincing at the memory of that afternoon. Seeing the pain flash across his face from the memory hurt her more than it should have.

“Yes. About why you kissed me.”

“Chat. I … Nothing I do or say will make up for what I did to you. I was stupid and selfish that day. I know that. And I’m sorry.”

“Ladybug-” he began but she cut him off.

“No, you need to listen to what I have to say. Before we try to solve anything, you deserve to know everything. It only seems fair since you called me here.”

Chat suddenly frowned, confusion flashing in his eyes. “Wait, huh? I’m here because _you_ called me.”

“I’ve still got your text in my yoyo.” Ladybug pulled out her weapon, showing him the screen. 

“I never sent you that.” Chat frowned, pulling out his baton. The screen flashed on, revealing a similar curt and very brief message, signed from her.

“And _I_ never sent you that!” the heroine exclaimed.

“Well there has to be a reason why we’re here. I mean, if you didn’t really want to talk then-”

“Chat! No! Wait, I still do, it’s just-”

“My Lady, clearly there’s been some misunderstanding to-”

“Please! Let me talk. I just wanted to say-”

Chat gave a frustrated sigh, as he ran his gloved-clawed hand through his messy golden hair, his face anguished, beautiful green eyes pained from what was happening between the two of them. Ladybug could only stare back at him bleakly, her sapphire eyes starting to brim with hot tears. This wasn’t helping either of them; words were said but not understood. Blinded by their exasperation with each other and the horrible confusion of it all, both heroes had plenty to say to each other. The only problem was, they just didn’t know how to.

“This is getting us no where.” Ladybug said sadly. With a mournful sigh she looked out towards Paris, walking towards the edge of the balcony as her hand came to rest on the metal grating. 

“You don’t think I already know that.” Chat bit through his teeth, a little harsher than he had anticipated. Guilt washed over him when he saw Ladybug wince, curling in on herself.

“I know. I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I just …” Ladybug apologised frantically.

With a groan, Chat stood next to his Lady unable to look at her in the eyes. He was too angry; too ashamed. 

“Sorry, my Lady.”

They stood in silence, watching Paris glow and flicker, reminding Ladybug of thousands of fireflies dancing on the ground. All around car horns blared, sirens rung, civilians lived their life at night. Everything was so beautiful and so alive. Neither of them said anything, afraid and uncertain. Who would be the first to say something; anything to rid the sickening tension between the two of them? Both of them were at odds with one another, unfamiliar and uncomfortable. The two of them were supposed to be partners, best friends, two halves of the same whole; equals. And now, everything just felt wrong. Everything hurt.

“Cha-” she began but Chat cut her off.

“No, let me be the one that talks first.” he pleaded. He sounded so sad, so earnest.

“Alright.”

“My Lady. I’m … what happened between us. It - it was a mistake. It, well, whatever I wanted to happen between us when we were fifteen, I don’t … I mean, I can’t. Not anymore.”

“I know, Chat.” she said quietly.

“You? Really?”

“I shouldn’t have kissed you. I’m sorry that I did. I’m sorry I put you through that.”

“Then why did you?”

“I … it was an accumulation of things.” 

The soft wind blew gently against her face, as she stared resolutely out onto the city that was her home. Her voice trembled with nervous conviction as she finally confessed.

“Firstly, you said something to me. You said I was perfect without trying to be; that all I needed to do was to be myself. Someone that I’ve hurt, that I love with all my heart whom I’ve betrayed, said the exact same words to me when he told me the reason why he loved me and wanted to be with me. I’ve treasured the words, ever since. That day, you … your sincerity really reminded me of him. And finally, I didn’t kiss you as Ladybug that day. I kissed you, well, I saw you as the girl under the mask.”

“What?”

“Chat, the girl beneath this mask, she … she no longer sees you just as her partner and best friend. I - I don’t know what else to say without revealing too much of my identity. It’s the only way to keep him safe. But the girl under the mask, she’s come to love and care about you as herself, not Ladybug. She loves you very much. And it hurts her everyday knowing she can’t be with you because, she loves the other man more.”

“I … that’s okay Ladybug. I mean, if I ever acted in a way that might have caused a - well, a _misunderstanding_ between us, whilst you were in you civilian form, it was unintentional. I didn’t realise it was you of course but that doesn't excuse my actions. I apologise for making you feel like that; for putting you in that situation. I mean, I know I can be too affectionate and I’m very sorry.”

Ladybug’s eyes widened behind her mask. _God, no! That’s not how it was at all!_

“I-it’s not your fault.”

“No. It is. I mean, you of all people have told me that I tend to be somewhat over flirtatious. If that caused-”

“No!” she said quickly. “It’s not like that at all!” _Oh, if only he knew!_

It had never been his fault. She couldn’t change Chat's character. She didn’t want to. Though the inopportune or inappropriate moment for his wit and flirtation had annoyed her at times, it had never been enough for her to want him to change. She never wanted that. Secretly, she enjoyed his attentions. After all, he was naturally a very charming as well as an exceptionally beautiful man. It made her feel special knowing that such a man wanted her, or in his case, wanted to be _hers._ Not only had it made her feel special, she had been comforted by his attentions, she had felt very safe. What girl wouldn’t have been swept away by him? Yet she hadn’t fallen for Chat’s flirtatious and over confident side. Ladybug, had fallen in love with a very different side of him; a side that only _Marinette_ had ever seen. 

“And I’m also sorry that you kissed me. I’m sorry that what I felt was something I should have simply let go of, long ago.” Chat continued mournfully.

Ladybug flinched without meaning to. “Do you regret kissing me?”

“To be honest I regret knowing I still have feelings for you; very strong feelings. I still love you. And like you, I can’t. I know I can’t. Because there’s someone else for me now my Lady. I love her so much that it hurts. And still being in love with _you_ is only making everything worse.”

“It’s hard to hear that from you but I’m glad you’re being honest, and that you feel the same way as I do.”

“I don’t know if things can ever be truly fixed, between us. But at least we know, now.”

“Yes. Thank you, for telling me that is. For being honest with me, too.”

“It’s just-” she paused, uncertain on she could put her confession, her self-loathing, and shame, into coherent and respectable words. But Chat deserved to know everything. 

“I wish - oh god! Sometimes I … Chat this hurts so much! I love both of you! You’re like two halves of the same whole and I can’t live without either of you. I’m so selfish!” 

Ladybug felt the angry tears well in her eyes but she staunchly refused to cry. She wouldn’t cry in front of him! Not now! Not after all this! 

It wouldn’t have been fair on him; she wouldn’t see Chat guilty over something he truly had no control over. She refused to let him feel at fault. As such, Ladybug was determined to cry later and out of sight. 

“We’re both selfish. Me kissing you, having feelings for you still, when I’m still in love with the woman that’s waiting for me; we’re selfish and both of us have hurt our respective partners, as well as each other.”

“I hate that we have.”

“It’s a hard truth to bear but it’s something both of us have to carry.”

“I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry for things turning out this way. And I’m sorry if this … ruins what we used to have.”

Chat gave her a sad smile. “It will take a while. But not even this can ruin what we have. I promise you that.”

“T-truly?”

“You’re my partner, Ladybug. My best friend. We do things together. We can’t love each other despite how we feel. But that doesn’t mean we still can’t be friends. Keep things the way the _should_ be.”

Ladybug nodded in agreement. “Yeah. How they should be.”

Why did saying that feel so bitter? It felt so wrong and very painful.

“Ladybug, if the man you love didn’t exist, would I still have had a chance?”

The question was unexpected. And she hadn’t been prepared for it. Marinette remembered all those nights when he visited her. Just as friends; friends that had grown into something so much more and neither had seen it coming. Casual and witty chats gradually lead to gentle compliments, a keen interest into each others dreams and aspirations. Eyes would light up eagerly whenever the cat-boy would tumble onto her roof. An adorable smile and the sweetest laugh, a wicked grin accompanied by soft tender eyes whenever he gazed at her lovely freckled face, made each and every night he spent with his Princess, all the more wonderful. There wasn’t a night he didn’t make her laugh. He had invested his time in her, he had truly gotten to know her. He didn’t have to; but he did. More than that, he had because he had wanted to. He had wanted to visit her. He could have talked to anybody else; there were other civilians that needed protecting. Certainly girls that were far prettier and more interesting than she was. At least she was strong. She could take care of herself. She didn’t need a superhero to ensure her safety when she was secretly one herself. Although Chat didn’t know about Ladybug, he knew Marinette. He had taken the time to know that she was strong and fiercely independent. More than that. She was intelligent, exceptionally creative and passionate; her beautiful sapphire eyes glowing the most beautiful shade whenever she talked about the things she loved.

Marinette knew lying wouldn’t have helped; she had always looked forward towards his unexpected visits. She had wanted it too. And she had learned that he was more than just the cocky, infuriating flirt whenever she was Ladybug. He was kind. Incredibly so, genuine in what he believed in and always sincere. More than that, he was protective, especially when it came to her. And it frightened her, knowing that this man would willingly take a bullet or blade wound for her. He would risk his life for her; die for her. All the tears that she shed were always met with a comforting embrace, and sometimes a kiss to her forehead. A horrible day was always answered with a funny story or a quick pun. Chat was more than just a superhero. He was kind-hearted, honest, earnest towards everything he believed in, strong, and courageous. He was good man; a _very_ good man beneath the mask; one she had come to care about so deeply. And now it hurt so much, having these impossible feelings. She knew she couldn’t have them. She shouldn’t. She was supposed to love another; she still loved another. But that didn’t stop her heart from aching with longing for her feline partner. 

“Yes.” she said softly, honestly.

Genuine surprise and pain graced his face. “Really?” 

Ladybug nodded. “As Ladybug, it would never have worked out between us. But the girl under this mask she would have easily fallen in love with you. She’s learned so much about you all those times you visited, she began to fall for-” Marinette began but Chat cut her off abruptly, suddenly grabbing her by the shoulders.

“Wait! Say that again?” Chat Noir exclaimed, his beautiful green cat eyes going wide with disbelief.

“You know it wouldn’t have worked out between us; we’re superheroes after all.” she said sadly.

But Chat shook his head, golden hair a mop of tousled silk, catching the soft evening glow of the Eiffel Tower spotlights.

“No Ladybug, I meant that last bit.” he said, his voice low. Slowly he took her hands, gripping them in his, his face earnest; desperate for the truth. Chat needed to know.

“What do you mean, the girl under the mask started to fall in love with me when I ‘ _visited’_ her?”

_Shit!_ Marinette screamed in her head. She hadn’t meant to confess that last bit! How could she cover up this? How could she weave a believable lie in order to protect her true identity; to keep hidden that it wasn’t Ladybug that had let her heart be captured by her favourite superhero, but Marinette? Just ordinary, inconsequential Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She honestly had know idea what to say!

She quickly looked at her hands, never realising just how small and slender they looked against the firm warmth of Chat’s grip. A vibrant flash of red, enveloped in soft night black; the colours so contrasting, so different, one pair of hands having the ability to not only purify, but to create life, whilst the other had the power of darkness and destruction. It should have frightened her; Chat was truly her complete opposite, incompatible, different. She had always known that. But why did being so different feel so right?

After several moments of nervous silence on Marinette’s part, Adrien finally spoke. She still couldn’t look at him, internally kicking herself for her own stupidity. Looking at her hands clasped in his, was easily the most preferred distraction, more so than the pounding in her heart and the anxious fluttering that had started in the pit of her stomach. 

“Ladybug. I know you under the mask. I _know_ you. Don’t I?”

The pounding in her heart halted, for her heart clenched painfully. What could she say?

“Ladybug, do I know you?”

She couldn’t. She didn’t have the courage too. And Chat’s voice was quiet, just a little louder than a whisper, and ever so gentle. And she could feel he was close, too close, the warmth of his breath blowing across the top of her head and forehead.

“I - I … c-can’t answer that.” she whispered.

“Look at me.” he murmured, voice soft.

Again. She couldn’t answer. She just - her mouth felt dry, her tongue refused to work, nothing would settle the frantic uncontrollable nerves that were going haywire.

But when hands Chat’s hands pulled away, only to cup her cheeks, she found she couldn’t move, nor resist him when he carefully tilted her face up to look at her in the eyes.

And Marinette thought her heart would give out there and then. Chat’s eyes were the most beautiful she had ever seen them. They were dazzling bright, burning with intensity, tenderness and curiosity for her. And they were the most stunning shade of green. She had always loved that they were green, like bright grass whenever they were filled with happiness or a deep and freshly cut emerald, whenever he was sad. But they gazed at her with a stare so deep and full of longing, the remaining rational side of her brain wondered what it would be like to get lost in them. With her breath and words caught in her throat, her heart suddenly still as if on pause, she was suspended in the moment, completely entranced by the shade of green she had come to adore whenever Chat looked at her in shy admiration and utmost devotion. And now they were evergreen. A warm, vivid and incredibly familiar evergreen.

Obscured by the cat-pupils and his black mask, the longer she lost herself in those eyes, the more familiar they felt. She knew those eyes.

“Your e-eyes.” she heard herself say. “I never realised before but they’re so-”

“I know yours, too. I’ve seen them before. Somewhere else.” he said quietly, his claws gently brushing at the locks of her raven hair. 

“They’re so blue. And your freckles. You have a lot of them. They’re beautiful.”

Ladybug blushed a little. “I’ve always had them.”

“Dusted in the same places. Across your nose and cheeks. And your hair, too. Just like _her._ ” 

“Huh?”

“There are so many … but how?” he murmured, voice full of wonder, his eyes never leaving hers.

He was so close to her. So very close. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She hadn’t come here for this. She had come her to set things straight, to be brutally honest about her feelings towards the other man that was supposed to have her heart. Instead, her heart began to throb with so many different feelings for the perfect man before her. 

“Ch-Chat? Do I know _you_ underneath that mask?” she asked quietly.

But Chat never answered. It was his baton that did, from behind his back. And Ladybug’s yoyo. Right at the same time. Both of them jumped, startled from the sudden intrusion of sound of …

_Was that music?_

And beneath their masks, it was music that Marinette and Adrien knew well, the soft lulling melody, the steady beat of the bongo drums, accompanied by the deep syncopated bass, pleasantly resonating in the Parisian night.

“Chat? What is this?” Ladybug was hesitant, shy. What on earth was going on?

“I have know idea.” Chat said honestly.

“You didn’t plan this?”

“No. And I know you didn’t either. But why?”

“Why is this happening?”

Adrien shook his head as he gazed at his utterly lovely lady. “No. Why do you have _this_ music on your yoyo?”

“I could ask you the same thing Chat. Why do you have Bachata music on your baton?”

“You know what Bachata music sounds like? You actually know what it is?”

“As much as you do, it seems.”

She wasn’t trying to defend herself. He wasn’t trying to interrogate her. They were merely stating the obvious, to make up for the many burning unanswered questions, and to mask the strange familiarity and hope that had suddenly settled between them.

And when Chat slowly and shyly moved into her space, she found she couldn’t resist. Even after several weeks of not being close, not feeling him pressed against her as she swayed and rocked with him to the soft steady beat, she had not forgotten, or rather, her body and some deep internal consciousness had not. The footsteps, the soft sensual moves, the need and the gentle longing to feel that romantic and tender intimacy with her partner had been ingrained into her psyche. 

Feet began to side step without meaning to, hips began to sway and roll back and forth. This was dangerous; the music, the heady sound that echoed into the night urged them to move with each other, to dance, to revealing their civilians selves, and who truly lay hidden beneath their masks. For once, neither Ladybug nor Chat Noir cared about the danger. The consequences of their actions would come later. Now there was just the music that they loved so much, and two people, yearning to be close again.

“Ch-chat! Wait!” Ladybug exclaimed softly, her heart beating fast, bright blue eyes panicked for the briefest of moments, despite how the sweet melody soothed her fears, her anxiety, and so many weeks of tormented pain.

“I … I d-don’t … I mean, I can’t dance.”

But Chat shook his head, guiding her hands and arms to wrap around his shoulders, marvelling how slender and light she was, as his hands settled at her waist and between her shoulder blades. Evergreen eyes glowed softly, realising just how familiar she felt when he held her, guiding her against him. She felt sexy, incredible, _beautiful_.

Bending forward, the tip of his nose lightly brushed against hers. He stared into sapphire eyes that shifted hue, darkening into a lapis lazuli he had quickly come to adore whenever she danced with him. They were hesitant and filled with shy desire and it was a desire he knew all to well, for he had always felt it too. It was the desire to feel sexy, to feel beautiful, to be wanted whenever they were in each others arms; their fingertips caressing warm and heated skin, and their lower halves slowlyclosing the distance in time to the beat.

And he couldn’t deny her that need. He couldn’t deny her anything. After all, Adrien had promised he would give her everything and more.

“I think you do, my Lady. I think you do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All I can say is ... FINALLY! I got a new chapter out! Thank you everyone for waiting patiently <3


	41. Forgiveness - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This fanfiction is now rated Mature, thus is suitable for 'mature' audiences.

_DJ Tronky … And another one bites the dust_

_But why can I not conquer love?_

_And I might've got to be with one_

_Why not fight this war without weapons?_

 

She knew this song, it was on her iPod at home, saved under her favourite remixes. She had stumbled upon it by accident when she was still taking lessons at university. It was combination of three of her favourite songs and at most times, Marinette had danced to this song alone, just in her room when no one other than Tiki was watching. It had always been one of those songs the DJ’s played rarely; the remix was too slow for social dancing. Or perhaps too intimate; too close that couples needed to feel and express the sensuality of their dance. 

Marinette had always pretended that someone was dancing with her, moving with her, matching their footwork to her own, as she rolled and swayed her hips and poised her hands in delicate holds. It was a song that always made her feel beautiful and there weren’t many times she felt like that. Not until she had started to dance with Adrien. Feeling beautiful, graceful, confident and strong, not as Ladybug, but as her self, slowly became something of a second nature to her. For her dance partner would gently encourage her to be beautiful, and she felt no fear that he might dislike her for feeling what she did; not when he wanted it too. The past couple of weeks she had almost forgotten what was like to feel those very feelings; she had missed them, almost felt lost without it. And now it was slowly coming back to her. She was slowly remembering just how wonderful it was to feel beautiful; to feel _wanted_ and _loved_ in Adrien’s arms. Only it wasn’t Adrien that held her so gently, guiding her hips and steps.

 

_And I want it and I wanted it bad_

_But there were so many red flags_

_Now another one bites the dust_

_And let's be clear, I trust no one_

 

Chat Noir spun the stunning and incredible woman in his arms. Her soft creamy complexion was flushed, the evening lights highlighting the soft sprinkle of freckles that dusted her nose and cheeks. He could see the beautiful lapis lazuli of her eyes smoulder and glow, her raven hair softly billowing with every step and sway. Adrien held her close to him, unable to take his eyes off of her. He was completely enamoured by her beauty, her grace, his heart beat quickening by her sensual movements.

_Who is she?_ _Do I know her? Who are you underneath that mask, my Lady?_ echoed over and over again in his head. There were so many questions, half-truths and answers burned in the back of his mind and it surprised him how little they mattered. In fact, it was so easy to ignore them, to forget those questions, as well as the pain, torment, guilt and confusion he had felt in the past weeks. Now, all he could hear was the music that had become a second language to him; almost like breathing. And all he could see was her. 

 

_You did not break me_

_I'm still fighting for peace_

_Well I've got thick skin and an elastic heart_

_But your blade it might be too sharp_

 

His head screamed at him to be rational, asking the same tedious unwanted questions over and over and over again. But his heart said another. Spinning his Lady around, she gasped softly, suddenly shy as he guided her against him until her back was pressed tight against his chest, their lower halves close. He guided her into a body roll, and he trembled when her hand hesitantly reached to brush and run up his thigh. They were so in sync; no words were needed. She trusted him absolutely, giving him consent to let her body be moved to the rhythmic melody. And her beautiful slender frame felt more than familiar. 

There were subtle nuances, the way she flicked her hands and held her head high, the way she easily matched his improvised footwork, the way way her eyes would darken with shy longing to be even closer as their pelvises met in a sensual roll, or they way she reached up to stroke the back of his neck, urging him to be even closer to her. With his heart pounding softly in his chest, she was so close to him that their foreheads touched, the tips of their noses meeting in a loving touch, her sweet breath a gentle caress against his lips. Sapphire eyes were so beautiful he could easily lose himself in them. He found he couldn’t stop himself from counting the number of light freckles across the bridge of her nose; reminding him of a constellation of stars. And he had no doubt that his heartbeat matched hers; they moved in perfect harmony. They were _partners_ after all, in everything.

 

_I'm like a rubber band until you pull too hard_

_But I may snap when I move close_

_But you won't see me fall apart_

_'Cause I've got an elastic heart_

 

Neither of them felt any fear, anxiety or anger. They just felt warm; loved. Whilst their minds still remained hesitant, hearts and bodies connected, remembering each other, exploring territory that they already knew. Though their heads said one thing, their hearts knew. They _knew_. Not even a mask could hide what their hearts yearned. When a hand slowly slid down the length of her cat-suit, she trembled in his arms, whimpering softly. But she couldn’t move away from him, even if she wanted. The hand between her shoulder blades had reached upwards, tangling in her dark silken locks, gently pulling her hair loose from her pigtails. The hand cradled her head, encouraging her to keep looking at him, to never break the contact. Not now; not ever. 

“Shhhh, it’s okay.” he whispered tenderly. The hand around her thigh curled.

“I trust you.” she said faintly.

 

_I've got an elastic heart_

_Yeah, I've got an elastic heart_

_I've got an elastic heart_

_Yeah I've got an elastic heart_

 

He easily pulled her leg up, hitching it around his hip, leading her into a brief crouch before pulling her back up again, carefully placing her leg down. But he never stepped back. Instead he slowly nudged his knee in between her own, pausing, waiting for her consent. And she let him into her space, allowing their lower halves to slide against each other until both of them were flushed fully, his thigh in between hers, the pressure of his leg guiding her hips in a slow and intimate dance. 

He was too close, his evergreen eyes were too bright and full of longing that her heart was certainly going to give out. She didn’t know what to do or what to think. There were so many feelings and sensations taking ahold of her heart. Shy and uncertain, she buried her face against his chest, arms wrapped tightly arounds his neck. And she could do nothing, accept let him lead her.

 

_So love me like you do_

_Lo-lo-love me like you do_

_So love me like you do_

_Lo-lo-love me like you do_

_Touch me like you do_

_To-to-touch me like you do_

 

Adrien could feel her hesitance, but he knew that deep down in her heart, she really wanted this. She just wasn’t ready to show it, not yet at least. It would take time, he knew that, coaxing her out of her shell, building her confidence, assuring her what they were doing was not only intimate, it was also beautiful and loving. But all he could do was hold her, pressing his lips to her forehead, a familiar gesture, as he cradled her small frame in his arms. The kiss was sweet, loving, innocent, contrasting yet balancing the sensual rocking motion of their bodies; their hips constantly moving against and with each other. Back and forth their hips swayed, rolling and meeting, as thighs rubbed and guided each other in their seductive and incredibly longing dance.

He carefully led her into another dip, arching her back, allowing her hands to rest gently on his forearms. She was so slight; she weighed close to nothing. And she was so elegant and slender, her willow-like limbs so stunning to watch as they styled and moved in time to the music. All the while he felt her tremble beneath his touch. The dip allowed him to also bend forward, his nose and lips pressing soft kisses down the column of her neck, travelling downwards and past her pectoral blades until he ended in between the valley of her breasts. He worshipped the beautiful woman that he had fallen in love with. The touch was incredibly sensual and Chat wanted nothing more than his Lady to feel that intimacy; to feel wanted, loved and safe from his touch and his touch alone.

 

_‘Cus I’m too hot_

_Call the police and a fireman_

_Too hot_

 

Chat Noir brought Ladybug back up to him before she could say anything, her face tinted by a lovely pink blush as he brought her back into and open position. Ladybug was even more surprised when he let go of her hands, taking a small step back, bright evergreen eyes urging her to dance by herself. He was encouraging her to feel beautiful. So she did the only thing she could do the last time he had asked her to do this. She still felt a little silly, but she was slowly getting used to dancing in front of him.

 

_Make a dragon wanna retire man_

_I'm too hot_

_Say my name you know who I am_

_I'm too hot_

 

She extended her leg, pushing the curve of buttocks outwards as she slowly circled her hips before pulling herself into a deep body roll, all the while pushing past her raven hair, which had become tousled by his hands. She pushed it past her face, exaggerating the movement, hands slowly sliding down her neck, traveling downwards as they traced the soft curves and lines of her body. Dark lapis lazuli eyes never tore their gaze away from brilliant evergreen. And Chat couldn’t bear to be apart from his Lady anymore, quickly taking her in his arms. 

 

_Saying why were you creeping around late last night_

_Why did I see two shadows moving in your bedroom light_

_Now you're dressed in black_

_When I left you were dressed in white_

_Can you fill me in_

 

They danced. They moved. And they fell in love over and over again. And for the first time in what felt like eternity, the breathed together, the closeness of their bodies and the sensual music assuring them that everything was going to be okay, and everything was as it should have always been. Two broken hearts, trampled and beaten by weeks of sadness, carefully and certainly began to right themselves. She felt his love, desire and utmost devotion. He felt her hesitant longing, dependence and complete trust. Both of them felt whole again. And the two of them were smiling. They were _happy._

 

_I've got an elastic heart …_

 

Ladybug found herself moving, sliding downwards. She never let go of him, her gloved fingers light stroking the pack of his neck and sunny tresses. His hands held her close, gently easing her down; Chat refused to hurt her, as he lead her into a final split position. When the final notes resonated gently into the night, everything was still, everything was silent. The Parisian night and it’s many wondrous sounds had been long forgotten. There was just the Ladybug and the Cat, and the sound of their soft pants and pounding hearts. There was just the brilliant colour of evergreen, staring deeply into a lapis lazuli that slowly began to shift to a warmer and brighter sapphire hue; truly a beautiful sight to behold. 

Neither of them said anything when Chat slowly stood up, offering his hand so his Lady could take it. He pulled her up and never let go of her hand, squeezing tightly; he couldn’t let her go. Sapphire eyes were glistening in the moonlight, lush pink lips parted with uncertainty. And tears fell, running past her mask and down the sides of her face. And she she couldn’t stop.

A leather gloved hand gently reached up, cupping the side of Ladybug’s cheek, Chat’s thumb soothing away the tears.

“Please don’t cry, Princess.” he whispered against her lips.

But she couldn’t. She continued to weep silent tears. So Adrien did the only thing he could. He brought her into his arms, crushing her slender frame against him, pressing kisses to her forehead, as he inhaled the sweet perfume of musk, strawberries and baked patisserie goods from silken raven tresses.

“It’s alright. I’ve got you.”

“ _It’s you. It’s always been you!_ ” she whispered against him. Her small hands clutched at his suit, gripping at the fabric, frightened that he would disappear from her, forever.

“I’ve got you, Marinette. And I’m never letting you go. Never.” he swore.

“ _Adrien.”_

 

_\-----_

 

Adrien was Chat Noir. _Adrien was Chat Noir!_ Her partner, her most trusted friend, her high-school crush, the infuriating cat-boy she had come to adore and secretly admire, was her heart. 

Tears fell freely from her eyes but she didn’t sob or weep with misery. Her tears were silent as found herself cradled against Chat’s warmth. They weren’t tears of sadness, disbelief or anger. She wasn’t in shock. She just couldn’t stop crying. 

A hand gently rubbed her back, soothing her, as kisses were peppered on her forehead and in her hair.

“All this time, I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. And now I realise, it couldn’t have been anyone but _you._ ” he murmured, voice trembling with emotion.

Chat was kissing her. No, Adrien was kissing her. But that wasn’t right. It was Chat that was holding her tenderly. No, they were the same person; the very same. And the more she thought about it, the more Marinette couldn’t understand how had she not seen it earlier? Chat’s gentleness and sincerity behind his flirtatious guise was as true and honest as Adrien’s. Adrien’s brief moments of weakness and insecurity were common place with Chat, who would often flinch with hesitant fear whenever he felt he had disappointed either his Lady or Princess. There was no Chat Noir without Adrien, no Adrien without Chat Noir. Their eyes were the same beautiful evergreen, their hair, golden as if kissed by sunlight. They were two sides of the same coin; both different yet both remarkably the same. She couldn’t love one more than the other. It was impossible. She knew she couldn’t love them separately. Not anymore. Instead, she could only let her small heart be overwhelmed by the gentle adoration and fierce loyalty and protection of both sides of him. It should have scared her knowing who he was; it should have mattered. But it didn’t. All that _did_ matter was this was the man she had fallen in love with, before she knew what love truly was. He always had been, and would always be her only love.

“It’s you. It’s … Adrien I-“

She didn’t know how to say it. How could she tell him? She desperately needed him to know, but she couldn’t find the words nor voice to do so. How could she say that there had only been him? That there only was _him?_ The man she loved since she was fifteen and the man she had grown to love even more, were always the same person; and she loved both sides of him equally. Oh, why had she been so blind? How had she been so stupid? Her own fear and hesitance towards revealing their true identities had caused all of this. What’s worse, it could have been avoided. She had always been the most stubborn out of the two. And like the sincere gentleman he always was, he had continued to respect her decision to keep their civilian identities hidden.

“ _Shhhhh!_ It’s okay.” he assured her softly. “We’re okay.”

“I … I l-love you. _All_ _of you._ ”

Pressed against his chest, Marinette could feel Adrien’s heartbeat. It quickened, matching her own.

“ _I’ve always loved you_. I was just too much of an idiot to see it.”

She wanted to say more, she had so much more to say, so much more to ask. There was so much to solve together. But the sound of civilian voices coming from the Eiffel Tower elevator, caused the two of them to look up, startled. Ladybug quickly wiped away her tears, with the back of her hand; slightly embarrassed.

“I-” she began hesitantly, but Chat Noir placed a gentle finger to her lips, silencing her, as he took her chin in his hand. The gesture was flirty, so Chat-like. Yet his touch was exceptionally tender, just like Adrien, as he stared into her eyes.

“We need to finish the rest of our talk. But not here.”

Ladybug could only answer with a faint nod.

“I know a place close by. It’s private and quiet.”

“I … y-yes. Let’s go.”

Taking out his baton, he extended it upwards, taking her hand so they could make their way back out onto the top of the metal grating.

“Shall we, my Lady?”

Ladybug never answered. Instead, she gently took Chat’s face into her hands and stood on the tips of her toes so she could press a soft kiss against his lips. The kiss was brief, innocent, not nearly as heated as some of the other kisses they had shared. But intimacy from that connection warmed her heart. The kiss was perfect, gentle, full of promise, something that the both of them needed after what they had gone through. 

When she finally pulled away, Chat’s eyes had darkened, smouldering in the light. They gazed at her longingly and Marinette blushed a bright pink once more.

“I just needed to … um, kiss you again.” she said lamely.

Despite the crowd that had suddenly buzzed, excited and thrilled by the presence of Paris’s most famed superheroes, Adrien paid no heed. All he could feel was the delightful warm memory of Marinette’s lips, tingling on his own. And he wanted to feel more. Too long had he gone without kissing her; he was practically a man starved of her love.

Suddenly pulling her close, his lips captured hers in a deep passionate kiss. Shrieks and gasps of surprise and the sounds of camera flashes from tourists and Parisian residents, echoed around them. But Chat could barely hear them. All he could feel; all he could taste, was the sweet beautiful sensation of his Princess’s lips moving softly against his own in a yearning and tender caress.

Finally, when it was his turn to pull away, the delightful pink blush had shifted to a bright red, her face somewhat matching the colour of her suit and mask. Her face was mortified; delightfully so. Accompanied by a sprinkle of cute freckles, her anger was actually more than adorable. And the blue sapphire of the eyes he had come to love so much, were glowing with shy embarrassment.

“I hate you sometimes, kitty.” she groaned, though her words held no malice.

With a catty wink, he took hold of his Lady by the waist. 

“You love me, _Purrr-incess_!” his smug voice was practically a purr. 

And soon the two of them were shooting off the platform, falling from the Eiffel Tower, and sky-diving into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Since all of you have been so good to me with all of your constant support and dedication, here's Part 2!!! 
> 
> Here's the song that Adrien and Marinette were dancing to: "Elastic Heart/Love Me Like You Do" Bachata Remix by DJ Tronky  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wfjoEuOPwDU
> 
> :D xoxox


	42. We're Okay, We're Finally Okay!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This fanfiction is now rated Mature, thus is suitable for 'mature' audiences.

Chat tumbled lightly onto a rooftop at the south of the city, the Eiffel Tower in all its splendour standing tall in the distance. Ladybug easily landed a little behind him with a soft thud. Chat had taken her to an old apartment complex, the roof surrounded by dozens of red brick chimney stacks, both circular and rectangular, satellite dishes television antennas. At night the rooftops were bathed in darkness, much of the light coming from the windows and street lamps far below. 

Ladybug was quiet when he sat down on one of the concrete ledges, leaning back against the side of a chimney. Her eyes were uncertain, shy and unsure. She wasn’t frightened. But she didn’t know what to do; let alone what to say.

Chat gave her a gentle and encouraging smile, his face bashful, as he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. Honestly, he knew the inevitable would have to be done sooner rather than later. Why wait to get everything out in the open?

“ _Claws off!_ ”

There was a bright flash of green. And the tiny black cat kwami buzzed and flitted to and fro. He gave the spotted heroine a quick once over, whose sapphire eyes had gone wide and very bright.

“Hmph. Can’t believe she’s still in shock after everything that’s happened.” Plagg grumbled, crossing his arms.

“Plagg!” Adrien admonished. “Don’t be rude.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now back to business. I’d like to speak to, Tiki, please.”

“Huh? _Oh!_ Right.” she said, flustered, cheeks turning pink as she rubbed her hands together, suddenly very self conscious. 

Taking a deep breath, mustering all the courage she had at the moment, she gave the order to deactivate her Miraculous.

“ _Spots off!_ ”

Adrien had always imagined the day his Lady would finally reveal her true identity. It had been a constant fixture in his mind since he was fifteen. He had always known that the time his Lady did choose to tell him the truth about her true self, about the woman that lay beneath the mask, that day would be incredibly special. He had always been a romantic. He had pictured an endless sky, big and beautiful, thousands of tiny stars spread far and wide, in velvet black. He could feel the gentle glow of moonbeams against his skin, the moon full, soft and white. He imagined the beautiful red rose he had prepared for his Lady, as she finally shyly confessed her love for him, trusting him with her secret. He could vividly see the flash of red as she finally dropped her transformation.

From his sitting position, Adrien stared in awe, his heart warming. His dream had come true, though not exactly in the way he anticipated. In all honesty he had expected more of a fanfare celebration; an overwhelming load of emotions as they wept tears of happiness in each other’s arms, enough to make the heavens sing.

But not this. There was nothing truly extraordinary about her transformation. There was a flash of red, a tiny red and unusual looking kwami with eyes the same vivid blue as his Lady. She reminded him of a strange but very cute-looking bug. She flitted quietly to Plagg, saying nothing. Adrien barely noticed the two of them leave, giving their chosen ones the privacy they needed.

And the woman beneath her red and black-spotted mask was anything but ordinary. Well his dream _had_ come true in a way. He had got and endless velvet night sky; the Parisian evening was surprisingly and pleasantly warm despite it being far too overcast to see anything. But her soft silken hair, thick and dark was a perfect reminder of what the night should have looked like at that vert moment. And who needed an endless sky when vivid sapphire eyes were shining full of longing; so incredibly beautiful that Adrien could happily spend endless hours exploring them. A rosy tint had flushed across her face, shy and awkward embarrassment making her even more adorable and exceptionally charming that his heart refused to stop beating erratically in his chest. And he had yet to name the many constellations that dotted and speckled delightfully across her even lovelier face; her skin creamy smooth silk. As for his moon; well Adrien had found her. She had always been there, quiet, watching him, waiting for him to find him in his own blind darkness.

Even with her nerves, her prone for clumsiness, her adorable stuttering, Adrien knew he was staring at the bravest, kindest, honest, the most beautiful and loving person he had ever seen. And he would forever thank his kwami, Master Fu, even the harder and more difficult parts of being Chat Noir, for bringing him to her.

“You’re so beautiful, I just want you to know that.” Adrien found himself saying quietly.

The rosy tint darkened and she looked away abashed.

“St-stop it.”

“I mean it. You really are the most beautiful person I’ve ever known. And I mean you. Not just on the outside, Marinette. But _you._ ”

And he did mean it. Marinette _was_ beautiful, in so many ways that it would be impossible to name all of them in a single night. In fact, it would take the rest of his nine lives and more to tell the world the many reasons he found her so beautiful; not to mention the many reasons why he loved her so, _so_ much.

“Y-you’re just s-saying silly things.”

“I’m being honest.”

That last comment left her completely speechless. So Adrien took the opportunity to take her hand, which she hesitantly took, gently guiding her down so he could take her slender and light frame into his arms.

Marinette gave a small squeak in surprise, her cheeks hot from blushing far too hard when Adrien pulled her close to him, easily moving her so she was perched very comfortably on his lap and against his chest.

“Now what?” he said softly.

“Huh?”

“I mean, what happens now? What happens between us now that we know because I want you to know my feelings for you haven’t changed. I’ve always loved you. In fact, I think I might be even more in love with you now to the point I know nothing else.”

“S-same. It’s just things are going to be different.”

“Yeah.”

“You aren’t, um - I’m not going to say disappointed but, did you ever wonder what I could have been like underneath my mask? Would you have preferred me, like … what you pictured? I don’t know what I’m really asking here.”

“Honestly, there were times I considered that you really might have been my Lady,” Adrien admitted with a sheepish grin, “And the more I think about it, I can’t believe I didn’t see it. No one else could have been Ladybug but you. I mean the times you were always late to class, the sudden excuses, why you were suddenly at the scene of the akuma attack as Marinette when I was still Chat Noir. The list goes on.”

“Well, it’s not like I gave any good indication that I was, well, _me._ I mean, I wouldn’t say I’m the most inspiring person.”

“You don’t see yourself the way I do.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow, confused. “What’s that mean?”

“Something for another evening. But you were just so shy around me, you’d get flustered so I kinda scrapped the idea you were my partner. At times, I was worried you didn’t like me. Until you confessed that you had always been in love with me, when I was Chat Noir. Secondly, you only seemed to be so certain and confident whenever you were Ladybug. And as yourself …”

“Sorry.” she said, a little embarrassed.

“You’ve nothing to apologise for. You getting flustered around me wasn’t a bad thing. I … well, I actually found it really endearing. It was cute.”

“Wait,” Marinette stopped him, eyes going wide. “Did you just call my embarrassing stuttering and clumsy awkward self … _endearing?_ You found it, cute?!”

Adrien recoiled. _Crap!_ He hadn’t meant to say that.

“No! No, wait, I mean your eyes would always light up in this, um, very p-pretty way whenever you, tried - to, uh … - talk to me and-”

“Adrien Agreste-Rousseau, are you blushing? Now whose the cute one?” Marinette couldn’t help but tease him, a smile gracing her lips, when he gave her a very awkward and bashful glances of his lovely evergreen eyes.

Despite his embarrassment, he gave her an unassuming and incredibly cat-like grin. “I always aim to please my Lady, or rather, my beautiful Princess.”

“Silly, kitty.”

She gave a laugh, lightly cupping his cheek, stroking him. She was so used to seeing him with his mask on, the gesture seemed new to her but at the same time, it wasn’t. It was unfamiliar, strange seeing Adrien in place of her saucy and witty friend. But it warmed her heart when Adrien responded in the manner he always did, whenever he was Chat. He leaned int her warm touch. Although he didn’t purr, he gave a soft sigh of contentment, closing his eyes and smiling, taking her her hand into his own as he held it against him. It was a small thing, subtle, innocent but it was more than enough for her.

And now, sitting here, with him, it now seemed like a good time to talk about something. About many things.

“I … I got the pictures. From the shoot we did.” 

Adrien’s lovely eyes were understanding and he gave her a sympathetic smile.

“You couldn’t look at them after our, um I guess you can call it a _‘misunderstanding’._ I couldn’t look at them either when I realised what they were.”

“It hurt too much. I’m sorry. I’ll look at them properly, when I get back home.”

Adrien’s smile only grew, easily pulling out his phone. “No need. I mean, they emailed me mine so …”

The screen of his phone turned on and Marinette winced a little by the sudden bright light. Adrien had been reading his emails, but he had yet to open the folder of the photos from that shoot.

“We can look through them together.” Adrien offered, his voice soft against her ear.

“I’d like that.” she replied shyly.

There was a small click sound. And the file opened. And this time, Marinette’s heart no longer hurt when the first photograph loaded on the screen.

She smiled shyly, blushing a little when Adrien lightly kissed her forehead, just because he could. It was a beautiful picture, the photographer had captured the most amazing shots. It was of the two of them dancing, and had been chosen as the ‘main’ promotional photograph, Stüdaria’s logo and the name of their latest collection, printed across the page in a sweeping, elegant, gold script.

“You look stunning in that dress.” he commented lightly.

“Um, thanks. Though it’s a little out of my price range. Maybe one day I can save up enough money to get it.”

The file that had been sent to him, had placed each photograph in order of the marketing photo book that was to be published for Stüdaria’s shop and overseas clients. And she couldn’t deny that each shot was beautiful; stunning. Adrien’s solo shots had her completely enamoured. He had always been so confident, a natural, and incredibly comfortable in the spotlight. Marinette still marvelled that this wonderful man with bewitching evergreen eyes, was and had always been her partner and her most trusted companion. 

Then there were her solo photographs and she found herself gasping, sapphire eyes going wide. The girl showcasing every stunning design was not the girl she knew. She knew clumsy and awkward Marinette. She knew confident and headstrong Ladybug. But this girl was stunning, a mixture of shy yet provocative beauty, slender and graceful in every pose. And the alluring costumes she wore, accentuated a refined yet still very tantalising sensuality; both subtle and transparently clear, one that seemed to come so naturally to her. Her large blue eyes fixed her audience’s with a mysterious stare, as her skin soft, pale and clean as creamy parchment, glowed against the light of her surroundings. She was exquisite, ethereal, raven hair the colour of night, falling in thick waves like a halo, which framed an even lovelier face.

“W-wow.” 

“Yeah. Wow.”

“I - ” 

She really didn’t know what to say. But looking at those wonderful photos; looking at herself like that, she couldn’t help but feel as beautiful as she had been portrayed.

“I, uh … like this one the most.” she said, trying to make light conversation, randomly picking a picture in the hopes of settling the sudden butterflies in her stomach. Not knowing what she had picked, she heard herself gasp when the photo loaded on the screen, heat rushing to her face as she looked away from the phone in embarrassment. Adrien gave a soft laugh.

Both of them remembered this photograph; Adrien had been there, steadily supporting her, providing her the comfort and assurance that there was no need to feel embarrassed or silly as she posed. Despite her awkwardness and hesitance, and not really feeling she was doing anything too bad, she had dutifully played her part in the shoot. Marinette hadn’t felt anything too spectacular when the cameras had clicked. She had cringed when the photographer had asked her to be more voluptuous, to be more expressive about her more ‘feminine desires’. Adrien had given the photographer a dark scowl. Marinette had felt her cheeks warm, her nerves doing nothing to settle the anxiety in her stomach, as she attempted to look more ‘appealing’. Fearing that she had done the entire set of photos for that costume wrong, she hadn’t expected anything to come from it.

But there she was, stretching out and flushing the entire length of her body against a clean concrete wall, lapis lazuli eyes dark and daring as the gazed at into the camera lens. Her lips had raised ever so slightly, giving a hint of a smirk, her torso pushed forward just that little bit more, allowing a teasing but surprisingly tasteful glimpse of the soft curves of her breasts, thanks to the beautiful plunging neckline of black beading. She had made herself enticing as well as stunning, her elegant, slender body adorned in a dark blue dress with with large intricate triangular cut outs at the side of her waist and a flowing side skirt of thick velvet, draped provocatively across long beautiful legs. Though a colour she was not used to wearing, the dress, combined with her smoky eye-shadow, cat-wing eyeliner and dark lips, and thick raven hair, had shrouded her in an evocative tempting mystery. She was provocative, dangerous … _sexy._

“Yeah; it’s definitely one of my favourites, Princess.” Adrien murmured against her ear, his voice teasing, his lips far too close to her neck. 

And it was. Well, _all_ of them were his favourite, whether they were dancing shots, her solo shots or the photographs of their more intimate moments. But this one had been special. He remembered the look she had given to the camera; the look she had given _him,_ when she had posed, her beautiful eyes suddenly and unexpectedly capturing his own. His heart had momentarily skipped, the air suddenly gone from his lungs, as he found his breath hitching in his throat; heated longing for her stirring deep inside him. Her lovely face combined with her breathtaking eyes, darkened by hidden want and curiosity to explore a darker, secret and far more intimate side of herself, had caused more than just his heart to swell and ache with need for her. For the sake of of all that was decent and morally acceptable, Adrien had to excuse himself, brushing past a smirking Alya. As quick as he could without rousing any more suspicion (or himself for that matter from unnecessary friction) he had managed to escape to a nearby costume tent, hoping to give himself a ten minute breather. Much to his chagrin, he struggled to get his more carnal urges under control. Knowing there was far more to come; that this was only the beginning to a side of his Princess he was more than eager to discover, it did nothing to help the incredibly obvious tent that he had pitched in his pants.

“You’ve gone quiet. Is something wrong?” she asked him.

“No, no! Mind drifted. Want to look at the rest?” he said quickly.

“Later. We … we still need to talk.”

Adrien gave a sigh. “Yeah. We do. But first. I need to get this off my chest. It’s only fair.”

Marinette frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Marinette … I know your family is in debt right now. And I know you’re planning to drop out of university. And I’m here to tell you; no. In fact, I’m _begging_ you. Please don’t. Don’t do this.”

Adrien watched, consumed with guilt as he finally caught Marinette out on her secret. Her face crumbled with misery, and she curled in on herself, sapphire eyes going dull as a mixture of shock and horror from him knowing, and a weighted sadness for not telling on him began to well and tear at the bottom of her eyelids.

“I … I’m sorry for not telling you. But Adrien, there’s no other-”

“No!” Adrien was adamant. This wouldn’t happen. It was just like her to be so stubbornly unselfish and he refused to let anything like this happen. Not when Marinette’s happiness and very future were at stake.

“Adrien-” she began hesitantly but he swiftly cut her off.

“I said no! And I won’t say it again. You’ve come so far. Don’t waste exceptional talent; don’t throw away what you’ve always wanted, Marinette.” he said earnestly.

“Adrien. How did you find out about it? Not even my kwami knows.” Marinette asked sadly.

Adrien gave a her a sheepish look. “Um, that night when you told me you kissed … well, me, as Ladybug, and you felt really guilty about it, you drifted off to sleep in my arms. You had a fever after all. And as you were dreaming you didn’t realise what you were saying. You might have mentioned about your parent’s predicament as well as _‘dropping out’._ It wasn’t hard to put the two together.”

His Lady gave a defeated sigh, her shoulders slumping forward. 

“I’m sorry you had to find out about it like that. I mean, after the whole incident with the akuma and us … ‘kissing’ and believing that we, um … be-betrayed each other when in reality we never did, I guess that on top of what’s happening with my parents, just made everything worse. And there’s the issue of Tiki still being out of the loop.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if she already knows. I mean, she’s with Plagg right now. No doubt, eavesdropping.”

Marinette’s heart sank. Wonderful. Another thing to look forward to; more disappointment and heartache. Just what she needed.

“Well, she was bound to find out sooner or later.”

“Sorry for finding out this way, Mari.”

“It’s not your fault. Truly. I know. Honestly, I just have a big mouth. But I don’t have a choice on this. My parents can’t afford to pay the rest of my tuition and university classes. And I absolutely refuse to let you contribute in any way. So before you suggest offering to ‘help’ my family’s situation, _my_ answer is ‘no’.”

“I knew you were going to say that so I was hoping you’d hear my second alternative, since my first alternative clearly isn’t up for debate.”

Marinette looked at Adrien with wariness in her eyes. 

“Alright. What do you suggest?”

“Well. Since any financial assistance for your family is a no go, which I understand your reasoning for, how about I call up a few of my contacts?”

“Contacts?”

“Marinette. I’m a model after all. I know people in the fashion industry who would be more than willing to hire someone as talented, incredibly hardworking and determined such as yourself. A paid traineeship that would assist not only your family but be very beneficial to your university studies, perhaps. Because that’s-” Adrien began but Marinette was suddenly frantic.

“No!” she exclaimed, flustered. _No! Adrien couldn’t do this!_

“Adrien! I - I can’t! That’s too much! It wouldn’t be fair to you and I don’t … I mean - I hate the idea of … _using_ you for something like that and-”

“Marinette,” Adrien said gently, taking her hands into his. “Listen. I’m offering and you know I’m more than happy to help you in any way I can. As for _‘using’_ me? You need to stop thinking like that. I want to help you and believe it or not, this is the only way I can. Even if you’re uncomfortable with this, I want you to know that I’m there for you through thick and thin. I _want_ to be there for you when you need help, even when you don’t believe you need it. Would you let me help you, Mari?”

Evergreen eyes met bright sapphire blue and Marinette gave a very shy smile, as she gripped his hands. She looked uncertain.

“Adrien, I - I don’t know what to say. Only, thank you. _Thank you!_ But this is too much. You’re being so unselfish, kind and thoughtful and … It’s very humbling.”

“Me, going to a few designers and gushing about how my girlfriend is the most incredible and amazing woman in the world and they’d be fool not to hire someone like her, is not something I’d call ‘too much’. I’d say it’s a very selfish thing to do, for my part.”

“B-but with who you are and-”

“Hey, me being … well, me; contacts are contacts. It sucks but everyone needs them. You aren’t exempt despite wanting to prove to everyone, including yourself, that you can do just about anything on your own. And you don’t need to prove me anything; I already know this about you. That’s why I’m offering this solution Marinette, and I really want you to consider it. Not only would it make your parents happier, considering you leaving university wouldn’t be taken very well, this is the only solution I know that will make _you_ happy.”

“W-what?”

“Marinette. I made a promise to you. Do you remember that?”

“You promised me that you wanted to do right by me; that you’d give me everything and more.” she said softly, the tenderness of her voice matching the beautiful soft hue of her eyes.

“Yes. And that means ensuring that you stay happy; something that can only happen if you pursue your dreams and follow your heart. And I intend to keep that promise, Princess, for every one of my nine lives.”

Marinette looked down, realisation slowly gracing her face. Adrien couldn’t see her expression, whilst she looked at their hands that were still clasped together. Then he watched her slowly raise them to her face, as she pressed reverent and adoring kisses over his fingers, wrists, his palms and knuckles. Her lips were so soft. And when she finally looked back at him, Adrien could see the absolute awe, gratitude and overwhelming love that she had for him.

Adrien knew what love was. His mother had given him that before she had suddenly disappeared. She had loved him very much. He had loved her. And after meeting Ladybug, Adrien couldn’t imagine there would be another woman in the entire universe he could love more than her. But then he discovered the woman that hid beneath his Lady’s mask and that’s when he knew. It was possible to fall even deeper in love with someone; right until the point you knew nothing else, that you saw nothing else but _her._ Adrien was so in love with Marinette until his heart was sore. But he didn’t care. Not when the girl he loved was staring right back at him, her face full of awe and wonder. She was looking at him as if she had just found the sun after years of being in surrounded by complete darkness. It should have been the other way around. He was Chat Noir after all. And she _,_ his moon.

“You always say that I’m your lucky charm. But in truth, I’m the lucky one. I have you. Thank you for always being there for me, Chat … _Adrien._ ”

It was his turn now; this was _his_ signature move. He brought Marinette’s hands close to his face, mirroring what she had done earlier, gently kissing her knuckles. 

“You honour me, Marinette.”

He brought her into his arms, and she sighed into his embrace, snuggling into his warmth. It felt so right, just the two of them. There was no pain anymore, everything was slowly beginning to right itself. Marinette felt as if a huge weight had lifted off her chest. She knew the pain of what her parents were going through right now would never go away; they were her parents after all. Family. But the guilt of keeping this secret from Adrien had gone. Rather it had lifted, the burden now shared between the two of them. He had willingly taken part of her problems from her, facing them head on by her side. Like the rest of their future troubles and the many hardships she knew that were to come, it was the start of something new; that anything they faced, they would do so together from now on.

“Sorry about confusing things between us. After all, I was the one that kissed you first, when we were still in our Miraculous forms.” Marinette gave a sheepish laugh, which Adrien returned.

“I can’t believe both of us were so caught up with the idea that we were cheating on each other, when in reality, we were kissing each other the whole time. I was cheating on my Princess with my Lady, who just happened to be my Princess anyway.” 

“And I was cheating on the very man I’ve had a crush on since high school with my best friend and closest partner, who happens to be the very man I’m in love with.”

“We really put ourselves through a lot, huh? But now that I think about it. The whole thing seems rather ridiculous.”

Marinette cringed at how stubborn she had been; this whole thing had been caused by her and it could have easily been avoided. 

“I should have just told you. About me. You were the one that wanted to know.”

“Hey.” he cupped her cheek in the palm of his hand, his thumb stroking the skin just beneath her eye. “It’s okay. We’re okay. You had your reasons for keeping our civilian identities a secret. It was safer for the both of us. And I respected that. I still do.”

“And that bit of wanting to do good and to keep everyone safe, only ended up with us being caught in this stupid love square. One we couldn’t get out of.”

Adrien gave a chuckle. “Well, I do have my suspicions on who sent me the text to my baton. It certainly wasn’t you. And I didn’t send you that text. But if those two rascals really did to get us together so we could to talk things out like we’re doing now, then I owe Plagg a weeks load of Camembert in advance.”

“Same with Tiki. Only cookies; chocolate chip. She loves those.”

“Maybe another day we can actually reminisce on the many times both of us got detentions for arriving late to class thanks to Chloe causing every akuma attack known to man.”

“When that evening comes, I’ll have fresh popcorn and your favourite chocolate macaroons, kitty.”

“How about I save a date for tomorrow evening, I’ll stop by on your balcony, Princess?”

“I’d like that.”

Adrien gave his signature chat-like grin. “Then it’s a date.”

“A-actually. I need to ask you something; it’s been on my mind ever since … well, we found out about each other’s identities. And now that we’re here I -”

“You can ask me anything. You know that.” Adrien assured her.

“Um, it’s - that night when you were on my roof, you told me that you’d be waiting for me, as Chat Noir, the night I confessed to you that I loved Adrien. Why did you tell me that, I mean you knew I was in love with you. Why tell me that you’d be willing to wait for me, if you knew I would have to reject Chat eventually?”

Adrien’s heart dropped. Oh. _So that was it. God!_ He felt awful. And selfish. He had been blind and insensitive to her feelings, and caused her too much heart ache and guilt when she had no reason to feel any of it. She had always been in love with the same person. And now knowing that she was his Lady this entire time, there were so many things to make up for! 

“I’m so sorry for putting you through that, Marinette. I should never have said that. You were so sad and had no need to be. It was my fault. I’m sorry.” Adrien said softtly, head hanging low.

Marinette could picture the cat ears drooping against the golden tousled crown of his head.

“Oh kitty, I’m not angry at you. I just wanted to know why?” 

“When you told me you loved me, _Adrien,_ the side I’ve always had to be perfect but no matter what I did, it never felt like it was enough; well you telling me that you loved me as Adien … it made me happy! As for Chat Noir ,I got to know you as my superhero counterpart. I got to learn so much about you and we became friends. And I loved being with you. I guess what I didn’t realise was, the more I started to like you as my friend as well as my favourite civilian, I also began to fall in love with you.”

“W-wait! You mean, since …”

Adrien nodded. “Yeah. I’ve been in love with you for a very long time. I just never anticipated that I was falling in love with you, or rather, I was so caught up with trying to win my affections with Ladybug … heh - or rather, _you,_ that I never considered that I’d develop feelings for someone else.”

“B-but why tell me to-”

Adrien had promised that he would be honest with her. And he refused to break that promise.

“The very idea of you giving your heart to anyone but me wasn’t an option. I - I just couldn’t let you … s-slip away from me. You were so close. And I couldn’t l-let you go. I was selfish that night, Mari. Do I regret saying it the way I did and putting you through something so horrible and unforgivable? Yes. Do I regret why? No. _Never_.”

“You … you gave up Ladybug, the love of your life, to be with me. That’s not something I can take lightly. I’ve always known your feelings. And I was the one that kept pushing you away because of it.”

“And that was never your fault. You were being cautious; I respected that. You had feelings for someone else.”

“I had feelings … for you, the whole time! I was in love with _you_ the whole time.”

“Just like I was. I mean it wasn’t that I had stopped loving Ladybug. I think I eventually realised that there was someone else that had captured my heart, waiting for me quietly and patiently for me to love her. She didn’t need to try to win my affection; she didn’t even realise she had completely taken me in the palm of her hand, slowly winning me over bit by bit. And not only did she love me, she accepted me, she accepted all of my faults, my insecurities, and my fears. She listened to me when I was scared to talk about them, she helped me get through them, accepted them; accepted _me._ I hadn’t found anyone else like that. Of course Ladybug knew of them but I never wanted to burden her with that. To be honest I guess I was afraid to tell her; afraid that the partner I loved and admired so much would hate me or worse find me a nuisance; weak. I was too ashamed to tell her. But with Marinette, she was just an ordinary civilian. I wasn’t afraid to tell her things. No. I was afraid. _Very_ afraid of sharing things about myself. But you taught me that despite being scared, it was okay. That it was okay to feel weak, that there was nothing to be ashamed of; that it was okay to be _imperfect._ That’s why I fell in love with you, Marinette.”

“I would have never thought that Chat, as myself or Ladybug. And you’re not imperfect.”

“I am Mari. As are you. We both are. And that’s what makes us special. It’s what makes you _perfectly imperfect._ ”

“A-Adrien, I … I could never be ashamed of you, how you feel, what makes you feel frightened or vulnerable. In fact, you trusting me with things you’d rather keep bottled on the inside, well - it’s … I’m proud of you.”

Adrien gave her a loving smile.

“I know that now. And knowing that you’re proud of me for being myself, that I don’t have to try to be perfect all the time, I feel stupid for ever thinking that you could ever be ashamed of me. I should have known you would never think that of me. That’s just who you are, my Lady.”

“You fell in love with me, my true self. Marinette.”

“No. I never fell out of love with Ladybug. I just learned to fall in love with the rest of her.”

“S-same. I … I was always in love with you, even as Ladybug. I just never wanted to admit it to myself. Because I thought I was betraying the feelings I had for Adrien.”

“Really, Mari?”

Adrien sounded so hopeful that it surprised her somewhat.

“Of course; how could I not fall in love with you when you were Chat. You … you were so attentive, invested in wanting to get to know this side of me, and despite the unbearable puns and the cockiness-”

“Hey! I find that highly offensive!” Adrien quipped.

“You’ll live, kitty. As I was saying, the more I got to know you, the more I realised that there was more to you than just Chat. There was someone underneath that mask that wanted to get to know me. I … I looked forward to your visits. When you left for America, I missed you, more than I should have that sometimes it felt empty not having you over at night.”

“I missed those nights too, Princess.” Adrien confessed quietly, remembering the gentle memories of tucking Marinette into bed, and laying down beside her so he could take her in his arms. He would stay for the night, both of them dreaming; safe and wanted. 

“Just don’t go getting hurt like you that night I had to stitch you up. I’d rather not go through that again. The very thought of your life in my hands.” she said quietly, shivering at the horrible memory.

“Don’t worry. I won’t put you through that again.”

“That was scary. I thought you-”

“Princess, I promise. It won’t happen again. I’ll be much more careful.”

Marinette visibly sighed in relief. 

“Thank you Chat. I hope we can relive those memories.”

“Same. Certainly the happier ones when it was just the two of us, of me spending the night in your company.”

Marinette blushed bright pink, suddenly looking very flustered.

“What’s wrong?”

“If you mean us just sharing my bed for the evening then sure. But I … um … with my parents around the house … uh …”

Marinette watched her partner blink briefly for a moment or two, then he turned a vivid scarlet, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh well, I mean … that didn’t come out right. But if _that’s_ what you’re thinking of then I wouldn’t mind doing that too.”

“Adrien!” she squeaked, absolutely scandalised.

Adrien held up his hands, defensively, his face embarrassed. But there was a cheeky glint in his eyes. “Sorry, Princess. Truly. You bring out the awkward cat in me. Besides, it’s not like we haven’t done things already with one another.”

Marinette groaned, burying her face in her hands, her face going an even brighter red at the more heated and intimate memories they had shared together. 

“Why’d you have to bring that up now?! We were having a serious conversation!”

“Hey, planning where and how I romantically sweep my Princess off her feet before I ravish her is a perfectly serious topic.”

Marinette didn’t think it possible, but she was blushing even harder. _God!_ He really was her kitty! How had she never seen it?!

“I can’t believe you sometimes.”

“But you love me, my Lady.”

“You’re lucky you’re pretty.”

“Aww, I’m sure I have more attractive qualities, Mari.”

“And it would be impossible to list all of them.”

“Same goes for you, my Puurrr-incess. Same goes for you.”

“Urgh! Be quiet! Stop making me blush!”

“But you’re so beautiful when you blu- …. _hmmmmph!_ ”

It was the only way to stop him from talking. And honestly she wasn’t really thinking when she did it. She simply leaned in and kissed him. Adrien had recoiled slightly, surprised at Marinette’s boldness but he easily kissed her back. He wasn’t going to deny her (or himself) the wonderful pleasure of honouring his Lady with an affectionate gesture, like the one she was giving him.

She kissed him long and hard, her lips moulding against him, moaning softly. She really had missed this; missed him or rather being _close_ to him. Hearts pounded in unison, as she moved towards him, Adrien guiding her so she could comfortably straddle his lap. Hands wandered to up shirt, feeling the hard planes of his chest, sliding up his neck, so she could touch and cradle his face. She pulled herself closer, whilst strong and warm arms wrapped tight around her waist. Her eyes fell shut and she gasped when she felt him easily slide his tongue against hers, both of them sighing softly from the open kiss. Like a familiar dance, they explored each other through their kiss. Noses rubbed gently, foreheads touched as the two of them remembered what it was like to feel whole again from a simple kiss.

Adrien suddenly broke away from the kiss and Marinette found herself pouting slightly, only to gasp when Adrien moved to press kisses along the length of her neck, his nose inhaling her sweet scent. Skimming along the silken flesh, Adrien remembered how many times he had loved her here. He had showered her with tenderness and soft loving kisses, marked her as his own with sucks and bruising love bites when desire ravaged him, he had buried his face in the soft beautiful crook of her neck whenever needed to feel safe. This place, no, all of her; _Marinette_ was where he truly belonged. She was more than just the one he loved. She was where his heart was; she was his heart. She was home.

“Adrien! Wait! Not now! Not another one!” she panted. Though her head screamed at her to be rational about this, her heart and body yearned for him. She was practically holding his head close to her, encouraging him to continue. She _wanted_ this just as much as he did.

“But Princess! I want to!” the desperate huskiness of his voice was mixed with a teasing cat-like whine.

“No Chat! Not where it’s so visible!”

Adrien froze. And so did she. Marinette felt her heart stop. She had only just realised what she had just said. 

“So, preferably somewhere more hidden.” he murmured against her skin. “Now that’s a _really_ tough decision.”

“Adrien, please! Stop! We can’t do this now. I mean, we’ve barely just started to fix things between us.” she said helplessly, her skin burning wherever he touched her.

With a groan, Adrien finally pulled away. He would always respect her feelings. “Just remember, you were the one that instigated it. This is all your fault, so …”

A heated and somewhat aroused flush tinted Marinette’s cheeks as she sat on him, somewhat awkwardly.

“That … that isn’t your phone in your pocket, is it.” she said softly, feeling a swollen and very sizeable stiffness between her thighs.

Adrien gave her a wry smile. “Like I said. All your fault.”

Marinette blushed, giving an apologetic smile before an idea came into her head. 

Hesitantly, she rocked her hips forward, pressing down. Her mouth fell open and her eyes went wide as a wonderful warmth began to bloom slowly between her legs. The friction was slight, but just enough to feel incredible.

Adrien’s hands immediately went to her hips, gripping her with such a bruising force that she almost winced. But she couldn’t ignore the throb she felt against her thighs, when Adrien’s hips met hers.

“Mari, don’t start something that neither of us can finish.” he hissed, his beautiful face twisting in pleasure.

“Can you really get … um, well … l-larger from just that?”

Adrien raised an eyebrow. “You’d be surprised how many cold showers I’ve had to take ever since we started dating.”

“B-but, we dance bachata! And I’ve never felt - well there wasn’t, uh …” Marinette gestured to the very prominent bulge pressing right into her groin.

“Like I said, cold showers and doing incredibly complex physics equations in my head as we danced, help.”

His Lady gave a giggle and his heart ached. It was such a lovely sound.

“Well, I hope we won’t have a mishap when we perform.”

Adrien gave a soft laugh, an embarrassed flush gracing his face but he made no attempt to try to fix his slight, well in his case, growing problem; not when Marinette was sitting right on top of him. 

“Worst case scenario, I’ll take a cold shower … or ‘deal’ with it, before the show starts.”

“When you do. Let me know, I’d love to give you a _hand_.” she said cheekily against his lips.

Adrien grimaced, the image and mere suggestion of his Princess giving him assistance sending the rest of his heated blood, southwards. His Princess had only made him fall even harder for her; falling in love over and over again was going to get very painful.

“Mari, please. You’re not helping. And I can’t transform into Chat Noir in order to get home, looking like this.”

“Wow. The suit would be a bit of a problem then. People are able to tell the difference between your baton and … um … well, you.”

“Why, Princess. Who would have thought your were such a sexy little deviant.” he teased.

“Only when it comes to you, kitty. But can I kiss you again?”

“Now that’s something you don’t even need my permission for.”

And Adrien smirked. Marinette gave a tight grin. Both of them leaned in for another kiss, most likely even more heated than the one before; their lips a mere inch apart-

_“HOLD IT LOVE BIRDS!!!!!!!”_ Plagg screeched.

The tiny black kwami zoomed in between the two of them. And soon Marinette and Adrien found themselves kissing soft black fur.

“ _Blerugh!_ Plagg! Why’d you do that?!” Adrien spat, trying to get the taste of cheesy hair off of his tongue. “At least you helped by significant boner problem.” 

Marinette’s bright blue eyes widened in surprise, before she gave a delighted squeal.

“Awwww! He’s so cute!”

“Don’t call me cute, bug girl.” the tiny cat growled.

“Plagg! Don’t be rude! And you shouldn’t have interrupted them! They were settling their differences, just like we wanted.” Tiki chirped, fluttering around Adrien’s head in a buzz of bright glowing red.

“Settling differences does not include gross human sin!” Plagg complained, snarling softly at his red companion.

“And I guess you’re Tiki.” Adrien smiled giving the kwami a friendly pat. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“And you too, Adrien. I’m happy you and Marinette are finally sorting things out. The past few weeks, seeing Marinette so miserable was horrible.”

Marinette gave Tiki an apologetic smile, allowing the tiny bug to hug her face. “Sorry, Tiki. And thank you. Both of you. We know you were the ones that planned this; you got us to meet each other. You made us see reason.”

“She’s right.” Adrien said. “Without the two of you, neither of us would have been able to get things fixed between us. Thank you.”

“Yeah, well I was sick of your moody ass, lover boy.” Plagg muttered, which only earned him a sharp and very audible whack across his head. Tiki was much stronger than she looked.

“I told you to stop being rude. But yes, we’re happy for you two. It’s always a wonderful thing, watching our chosen ones finally get to be together; to be happy together. You two are destined to be partners in all things; as heroes, friends, even lovers. So seeing the two of you finally accept your differences and see each other as you truly are, really warms my heart. And Plagg’s too. He’s just being his usual difficult self.”

“I can already tell that I’m gonna like having you around, Tiki.”

“Likewise, Mr. Rousseau.”

“Awww, don’t be cruel to Plagg. He just needs love.” Marinette tease, tickling the tiny cat beneath his chin. Adrien swore he could hear his kwami, purring from the sudden unwanted affection. Plagg would never hear the end of it from him, or Tiki for that matter.

“Plagg, you’re purring.” Tiki said, her face smug.

Plagg flinched, flitting away from the contact. “I was not purring. And stop making this about me! We’re not here to talk about me!”

“Then what are you here to talk about?” Marinette asked. Even Adrien was curious.

“Simple rule. Hugs are fine. Kisses are fine. But please! _PROCREATE WHEN WE ARE NOT IN THE VICINITY!_ ”

“ _Plagg!_ ” Tiki groaned, burying her face in her tiny hands. “There are better ways to deal with this!”

“Tiki! I refuse to have another kitten and another bug, go at each other, every moment they feel the urge to! The last time that happened, one of the clock-hands on Big Ben snapped off the clock’s face!”

“Plagg! Don’t be crude! We have to consider the implications. And neither of them are teenagers anymore. They’re consenting adults! It’s none of our business!”

“Tiki, for the last time; I do not want to have anymore gross human sin accidents whilst they’re still in their superhero suits! It’s absolutely disgusting having to clean up all that mess.”

“Plagg, please. Can’t you say this with a little more tact? And you know we can resolve the issue should our chosens feel the need to mate at such times. It’s perfectly natural for them; they are a bonded pair.”

“And how do you propose we do that? You manipulate lucky charm so Ladybug can conveniently pull out a condom when the need arrives?!”

Tiki raised an eyebrow. “Yes, for starters. They may be of an appropriate age to start mating but they’re far too young to be having kittens. As for avoiding accidents caused by _‘gross human sin’_ as you so delicately put it, I can easily make Ladybug’s costume a two piece rather than a body suit. As for you, how about you make a zipper that goes all the way down?”

An awkward cough interrupted the two bickering kwamis, both cat and bug turning towards their chosen ones. Both of them had gone a scarlet red. They looked absolutely mortified.

“We _are_ still here. Just so you know.” Adrien mumbled.

The tiny cat merely looked disinterested; his bright green eyes fixing him with a hard stare.

“Zip it, lover boy. Let Papa Cat and Mama Bug finish their important conversation.”

Tiki slapped her tiny hand to her face. “I hate you.”

“You love me, woman.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! A new chapter! They're finally resolving all that's happened. They still have a long way to go but it's a start. 
> 
> I just want to say, all of you have been so good to me! Your constant support and praise is what keeps me going. Without all of you, there is no way I wouldn't have made it this far into a fanfiction. I would have given up a long time ago. Again, thank you. It's humbling to know that so many of you have faith in my writing skills. And as a thank you present, aside from an exceedingly lengthy chapter, I've drawn a bit of Fanfiction art to accompany a Body Roll Or Two. This drawing is dedicated to all of my wonderful fans that leave comments and kudos. Again! Thank you! I love you all!
> 
> Fanart Link: http://jadestonedrawings.deviantart.com/art/A-Body-Roll-Or-Two-667951562


	43. Where Things Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This fanfiction is now rated Mature, thus is suitable for 'mature' audiences.

“You know, you didn’t have to carry me all the way back home.” she said, smiling at him as he carefully let her down from his back, dropping her off in the front of the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

“You’re my Princess, after all. And a knight always carries his Princess.” Adrien gave her a tight grin.

“Thank you for seeing me home. Though I have no idea how I’m going to explain my sudden disappearance to my parents. I’ve been gone for the entire afternoon and it’s close to eleven o’clock.”

“Didn’t you leave them any messages?”

“”Yeah. Still gonna get hounded for getting home much later than I should have. Secondly, they didn’t exactly see me slip out the front door of the bakery shop. I kind of snuck out.”

“Well, how about I cover for you. I mean, I _am_ the reason why you’ve been out so late.”

“I … are you sure? I don’t know if that’s gonna help in anyway but-”

“Hey,” he took her hands in his, “It’s worth a shot.”

Marinette nodded. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

With a deep breath, she opened the door to the bakery and sure enough her parents were waiting for her with incredibly disapproving and disappointed frowns.

“Marinette Dupain-Chang! Where have you been?” her mother said quietly. Her mother never shouted. She never needed to when she was angry. The hard cold glare in her eyes and the evident anger that flashed across the lines of her face were more than enough to make her daughter wince. Not even her father, tall, burly and truly a fierce looking man could not match to the fuming anger of her mother. Even though much smaller than her Marinette, her dark glower made Marinette to tremble fearfully, in her shoes. Her mother wasn’t a force to be reckoned with.

“You haven’t answered any of our calls or texts, you’re way past the curfew we told you to be back by, especially since you’re still recovering. More than that; we had no idea that you actually left the apartment! I hope you have a good explanation.

Marinette flinched at the quiet, yet clipped and very brusque of her mother’s tone. 

“I do.” she said, looking at her hands. 

That was Adrien’s cue, as he walked in sheepishly. Sabine looked up in alarm at the newcomer that had entered their home.

“I apologise, Mrs. Dupain-Cheng. I’m the reason she’s out so late. There was no excuse for me keeping her out at such a time and especially since she’s still recovering. I’m very sorry.”

Adrien gently wrapped an arm around Marinette’s waist pulling her close; assuring her that she had his full support. Sabine silently, eyes slowly gaging the young couple, as she assessed the new situation that had arisen. It was Tom that broke the silence.

“Well, it seems there’s a lot more to this than a simple ‘I lost track of time’. Why don’t we head upstairs to the living room and talk? Shall we, my dear?” he asked his wife.

“Y-yes. Of course.” she answered, still startled as she let her husband lead her out the back of the bakery and up the stairs.

“I think that would be best.” Adrien agreed. 

Marinette could only nod, shyly leaning closer into Adrien’s shoulder, as they followed close behind her parents.

\-----

“So that’s pretty much how it happened. I didn’t mean to keep her out so late, Mr. and Mrs. Dupain-Cheng. We truly lost track of time. With everything that’s happened between us, there was a lot we had to talk about and thus, a lot to resolve.” Adrien said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “But we’re in the process of getting things right again. We’re okay now.”

Marinette sat beside her boyfriend on the couch, holding a mug of warm tea her mother had brewed. Tom and Sabine had pulled up a chair each, sitting down to listen to what their daughter and the love of her life had to say to them. Marinette let Adrien do most of the talking, whilst she occasionally interjected a few details and her opinion, here and there. For the most part, the story Adrien had concocted in his head had been the truth; if not all of it. He had explained, the reason for his absence and his of lack of contact with Marinette since she had gotten ill, hadn’t been due to Marinette losing her voice, but rather, neither of them had had the courage to talk to each other. He had explained a certain honest ‘misunderstanding’ where no one was at fault, had caused them to argue. Since it was their first real argument as a couple, neither of them really knew how to deal with it. And tonight had been their final breaking point.

“I just … both of us were confused, angry and scared of what might happen to our relationship. But I missed her; really missed her, being in her company and hearing her voice. I had to see her. So I texted her to meet me. As for the reason why she somewhat ‘snuck’ out without you realising, that was my fault too. It was stupid of me, but I was worried that since she was still sick, you wouldn’t let her leave the house. But I had to see Marinette. Even if we didn’t get to settle our differences and solve things, I needed her with me.”

“Is this true?” Tom asked softly, gazing at his daughter.

Marinette looked up from her hands, eyes hesitant. “Yeah. That’s why I didn’t tell you where exactly I was going, or who I was going to see.”

“You stayed out very long.” he chatised and Marinette’s shoulders slumped. She wasn’t going to be let off lightly. She was after all, still living under her parent’s roof.

“There were a lot of things to discuss. I mean, the first hour or two, we couldn’t really talk. It was just constant apologises to each other over the things that had happened between us. And I missed Adrien. I missed him so much.”

“And you’ve solved things?” Sabine inquired, calmly. Marinette wasn’t sure if she was still angry or not; it was difficult to tell sometimes. 

“I … not everything.” Adrien said, glancing at Marinette, silently wondering if it was okay to mention the ‘other’ things from their conversation on the roof.

“What do you mean?” her mother asked.

“It’s alright, tell them. They deserve to know.” Marinette assured him. “It’s better this way.”

“This is difficult and I don’t want to offend you or Tom in anyway. But I know about your current, um … financial difficulties that have occurred since the flash flood.”

Neither Tom or Sabine reacted. They merely looked at each other briefly. Again, Marinette wasn’t sure if she should have taken that as a good thing, or a bad thing. 

“How did you find out?” Tom asked.

Marinette spoke up, refusing to let Adrien take anymore of the blame. “That was my fault. It was me. I didn’t mean to. I just blurted out, whilst I was apologising and sobbing into his arms at the same time. Everything was happening all at once and; _I’m sorry_.”

“Together, we were trying to come up with solutions on how to help. Not that the offer doesn’t still stand, since I wouldn’t dare insult you with the suggestion that I help with paying some of those loans and debts, I came up with another solution that Marinette could do, which would greatly contribute. Not only that it would be incredibly beneficial towards Mari’s future as a fashion designer.”

“Well, thank you Adrien for coming up with a solution to help our family, but you’re making it sound like this was the ‘better alternative’ to something else. May I enquire on to what that something else was?” Tom asked cautiously, eyes suddenly wary.

Adrien lapsed into uncomfortable silence, unable to answer. How could he? He didn’t want to tell them about Marinette’s prior decision to dropping out of university before he had managed to put some sense into her head, thus ultimately persuading her to change her mind.

Marinette gave his hand a squeeze, taking a deep breath. She had to be honest with her parents.

“Mari, you don’t-” Adrien began but she cut him off, shaking her head.

“I do, Adrien.”

She turned back to her parents.

“The last couple of weeks, I was highly considering dropping out of ESMOD. That way, all the money that would have gone towards paying for my classes and tuition could have been used for paying back the loans to the bank.”

Marinette’s heart broke, as she watched the shock, pain and sadness flash across her parents faces. Her parents were absolutely horrified by her previous decision. And she had never seen them more disappointed in her. Marinette could only let the wretched guilt consume once more; it was more than she deserved for the stupid choice that would have caused her parents, unbearable unhappiness. She had promised her mother that she would talk things through with the both of them. And now she had broken their trust. The more Marinette thought about it, she no longer doubted that dropping out of university would have be the ‘easy’ way out; not only would have it been easy, the decision would have caused her family the most pain.

“I’m so sorry.” Marientte said quietly, tears burning in her eyes. She refused to let go of Adrien’s hand.

“Marinette. Why would you even consider-” Sabine asked softly.

“Because it was my fault! I should have … I could have done something!” Marinette snapped. “It was always my fault. What happened to the bakery was my fault!”

Marinette knew she could never truly tell her parents the reason why. That secret would be kept with her until her dying day. Although she knew it was better that way and her parents would be safer without them knowing about her responsibilities as a superhero; it still hurt, knowing she could never rely on them to make things better, or ask for their comfort when she needed it most.

“I saw that it was raining outside. I should have gone down to the bakery much earlier, to make sure it was alright. I could have taken precautions, to ensure the bakery was better protected. But I didn’t. I didn’t do anything! I couldn’t do anything! I just stood there, numb, unable to move. If anything, Adrien was the one that managed to save what was left of our bakery. I did nothing. It was my fault!”

Both her parents were silent. Adrien didn’t say anything. And hot tears ran down Marinette’s cheeks, dripping from her chin.

“And when I found out that our family was in debt, it only made things worse. And I can’t help but feel that’s my fault to. I know you asked me not to do anything drastic and make rash choices without thinking or talking to you about them, but dropping out of university, or at least stopping for a couple of years or so, seemed like the only option at the time. You needed the money, and needed it fast. It … I thought it the only solution left.”

“Oh Marinette, why didn’t you tell us? Not just about your decision to leave university, but everything else; how you were feeling?” Sabine pleaded sadly, tears dotting her eyes.

Marinette sniffed, as she rubbed away the tears in her own eyes, roughly, with her sleeve. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

Sabine or Tom sat in their seats, shell-shocked through their daughter’s entire confession, and before they could even attempt to reason with their daughter, it was Adrien that spoke first. His voice quiet and mellow as he spoke to the girl that sat beside him.

“Marinette. Sometimes keeping things to yourself, because you believe it will keep the ones you care about safe or you don’t want them to worry about you, isn’t always the best solution. I mean, I should know. And you should know by now to.”

Marinette looked to Adrien. His beautiful beautiful evergreen eyes captured her own. They looked at her kindly, holding her gaze, a gentle smile gracing his lips. And she couldn’t help but give a weak smile back; the tender warmth in his face and the way he lovingly gripped her hand, giving her the courage to continue, as well as calm her anxiety and frustration.

“I … I know that now. Mama, Papa, I’m very sorry for not telling you how I felt. But Adrien’s made me see now, keeping something like this from you, doesn’t help anyone, including me. Some things have to kept secret. But most things, including this, I can’t deal with by myself. Even if I feel like I can do things on my own; I have to ask for help sometimes.

Both Tom and Sabine remained silent, surprise colouring their faces.

Marinette gave a soft smile. “Thanks to Adrien, I see a lot more clearly now. I’m not going to make rash decisions anymore. I’m going to let Adrien help me with _his_ solution. I’m not going to leave university.” 

Surprise turned to disbelief. Disbelief slowly made way to shoulders visibly relaxing, soft sighs of relief falling from mouths, as her parents gave their daughter, happy smiles.

“I’m still disappointed in you, Adrien. Keeping my daughter out without giving me any knowledge of when she might be returning home; I expected better from you.” Tom said sternly. Adrien nodded, humbly accepting the criticism.

“However, I can’t deny that you’re a good man. A good man who knows my daughter all too well. For that, I thank you for helping her; for helping her many times and at times that we often couldn’t. Thank you for setting her straight and for stopping her from making such a terrible decision; one we all know that she would regret.”

“You don’t need to thank me me, sir. If Marinette or either of you needed my help, I would give it in a heartbeat.” Adrien said honestly. 

“So how are you going to help our daughter; our family then?” Sabine asked him.

Adrien chuckled sheepishly as he explained.

“One of those times when being a fairly-famous model is a blessing as well as a curse. To put it plainly, I’ve got contacts; good ones too. I can guarantee Marinette will end up with a very good fashion design internship, which she can choose to continue or leave for another design job, which I can also help her with, once she graduates university. I can promise you a paid internship too. And with how exceptionally talented, dedicated and hard-working she is, simply calling up a few of those contacts to get Mari an interview is the least I can do.”

“You’d do that? For our daughter; you’d help her start a future.”

Adrien blushed as he smiled, nodding as he thought to himself. _And I hope to be part of that future too but that’s for another day._

“Just let me know when you and Marinette have sorted out what kind of internship or experience she’d like to have. I can suggest companies that would best suit Mari’s interests, as well as provide you the company’s background and what they’d expect from her.”

“Again, you’ve done so much for our family, Adrien. Thank you.” Sabine said softly, her eyes full of gratitude.

“This solution is far more favourable.” Tom agreed, smiling warmly.

There was a buzzing sound and Adrien picked up his phone.

“Sorry, that’s Kim; checking up on me. I should probably head home.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Marinette asked.

“Hold it young lady. Just because we’re happy that you and Adrien have sorted things out doesn’t mean you’re off the hook yet.” Tom said reproachfully. “You’re still living under our roof. And your mother and I were very worried. I’m instigating an earlier curfew and restricted visitations”.

“ _Papa!_ Restricted visitations! Seriously? I’m twenty-one! Not twelve!”

“Tom, Marinette’s learned her lesson, in more ways than one. And that’s thanks to Adrien. Yes, I’m still disappointed in her but after our conversation I can’t help but feel everything turned out the way it should have. If Adrien hadn’t called her out to see her tonight, who knows what else our daughter would have done if she had decided to stick to leaving ESMOD. And she’s too old for curfews. Though I would like it if the both of you would keep us updated on where you are and when you intend to get Marinette home, a little more rigourously.”

“Of course Mrs. Dupain-Cheng.” Adrien said swiftly without argument.

“Yes, Papa. Yes, Maman.”

“And really, Tom. We can’t stop these two from seeing each other. We can’t stop them from being with each other. Clearly that’s impossible. I mean look at them. They’re two young adults, completely in love.” 

Both Marinette and Adrien blushed at the last comment.

“Furthermore,” Sabine continued, reasonably, “They have to see each other more often now, with their performance coming up. It’s at the end of the month. And since Marinette is better, they’ll need to practice much more often.”

With everything that had happened Marinette had quite forgotten about their Bachata performance and she gave Adrien a look of panic.

“Don’t worry, Mari. We’ll be ready. And you’re already flying through your homework and designs, you won’t fall behind on our performance or university. Your major coursework is done. All you have to do is present it. The last time I saw the our costumes for our performance and your elective, they were more than half done; you just needed to add the embellishments and make a few adjustments. Alya has filmed plenty for you to use for your assessment. And there’s enough video evidence of your costume progress. That’s covered and I’m certain she’ll be more than happy to help you put the video together, as well as film our final performance for your coursework. As for our performance, we’ve got the majority of our routine finished. Now it’s just finalising and perfecting the routine before a solid dress-rehearsal.” he assured her.

“If you say so.”

“Hey, you seem better. And the studios are free tomorrow so we can have a quick recap or I can help you finish your costume. We’ve got this.”

“Yeah.”

“I still think limiting the number of visits would be better; I mean they always see each other when they practice-”

“ _Tom!”_ Sabine said firmly. Tom immediately quietened, knowing it was impossible to argue.

\-----

Adrien had gone home for the night, after kissing her goodbye and leaving a few numbers and business websites for her parents so they could look through them for possible jobs for their daughter. It hadn’t taken long for Marinette to head up to her room and pretend to fall asleep. By the time she knew her parents had gone to bed, she had quickly snuck up to her balcony, wrapping a blanket around herself to keep warm, as she waited in the soft moonlight. Adrien had certainly gone home. And she was more than certain she would have another visitor on her roof. 

“Princess.” he chastised, “It’s past midnight. You should be in bed.”

Smiling slightly, she turned around and looked up to find her black leather-clad knight, perched on the roof tiling, tail swinging lazily. Evergreen eyes gleamed brilliant and bright against the moon. The moonlight glowed behind him, his dark suit illuminated in a soft sheen, thus making him appear far more ethereal and mysterious than he should have been. There was something about the way he posed, crouched and unpredictable, ready to spring from the tiling and onto the floor, as if about to pounce. And she couldn’t help but feel a strangely thrilled with the notion. He was here to see her, after all.

“Couldn’t sleep.” she shrugged.

“Oh? Nightmare? Too much on your mind?” he asked, with a playful smile.

“No. It doesn’t feel the same when you’re not sleeping next to me.” she said confessed quietly, feeling her cheeks warm.

Chat’s smile went wide as he sat quite comfortably despite balancing so precariously on the edge of the rooftop. But with his lithe agile body and cat-like instincts, she knew Adrien was in no danger.

“Oh Princess, you look so lovely tonight. I just had to see you again. I trust things are going well with the love of your life?”

Marinette gave him a look. “Don’t tease me, Chat.”

“Marinette! You wound me. I would never tease the Princess who has captured my heart!”

“Oh? What about Ladybug? Or this ‘girl’ you’ve so recently fallen in love with? Plan on breaking their hearts to be with me?”

“Looks like I have enough room in my heart to have all three of them. So it looks like I get to have all of you.” Chat said with a shrug.

“Naughty, kitty.”

“I am a bad man. A bad and dangerous man. A civilian such as yourself should be much more careful around men such as myself.”

“Oh? What if I like a little danger on the side? It certainly makes life a lot more interesting.”

“I know very well that a Princess such as yourself, has a certain wild side. It’s intriguing. Not to mention downright enticing.”

“I could say the same thing about you, Chat.” Marinette added lightly, tucking her dark hair behind her ears as she gave him a shy smile.

Her feline companion gave a look of mock surprise, utter delight dancing in his beautiful green eyes. 

“Princess! Are you actually admitting that you’re complete enamoured by my sexy and suave personality?”

Marinette blushed. “Y-you’ve rubbed off on me, if I have to be honest.”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng thinks I’m the most handsome man in all of Paris! This is certainly a wonderful evening!”

“Oh shut up!”

“Well I’m certainly much more good looking than that Adrien Agreste fellow you keep mooning over. Good riddance to bad rubbish! I for one know I’m going to be the best boyfriend; far better than he was.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure. I mean, he’s not as flamboyant as you are.”

“If you have what I have, why not flaunt it?” Chat asked incredulously. “I mean look at me!”

He gestured to his leather clad suit and his lithe, provocative form.

She rolled her eyes. “We all know you must look pretty decent under that thing. But really! For the whole world to see? Arrogant, much.” 

“Exactly! And since _you’re_ my whole world I don’t see the problem. It also helps, my whole world is the most beautiful person that’s ever existed.”

“Well I -” she began to retort only to stop mid sentence, suddenly realising what Chat had just said. And her ears burned, a bright pink blush tinting her cheeks, as her heart fluttered in her chest. _Did Chat really just say that?!_

She couldn’t look at him when she finally found her voice, incredibly embarrassed. But pleased; _very_ pleased and incredibly flattered.

“Stop being silly, chatton.”

“Sorry. Can’t make any promises.” He gave a tight grin, his heart melting at the lovely sight of how his honesty affected her. It was one of his favourite things; watching her blush, the rosy tint a delightful feature on her stunning freckled face. And the way her sapphire eyes lit with shy delight whenever he complimented her was just too good to be true. But everything was true, as it was good; no, incredible! For Mari was _real!_ Here, right before him, blushing so adorably and being her perfectly imperfect self.

“Say things like that, I’ll feel bad for Adrien, considering I don’t plan on breaking up with him. No matter how good looking you are I still intend to be with him, you know. I’m not just going to leave him.”

Chat gave her a cocky smile but his eyes were nothing but gentle. 

“Princess! How scandalous! Your heart is already taken yet you pine for another mysterious, dangerous and might I add, an exceptionally handsome stranger. Are you suggesting that we have an illicit affair, where I can ravish you throughout the many lonesome nights?”

Marinette blushed even harder. She certainly wasn’t going to deny to the heated and exciting suggestion of being ‘ravished’ by the famous Chat Noir. A girl could only be so lucky. And if he insisted on teasing her, two could play at that game. She gave slight smirk.

“I never said anything about having an affair with you. But as for the ravishing, it’s a good thing I’m wearing my best lingerie underneath my nightgown.”

Marinette could only laugh when she watched the feline-man suddenly lose his balance and slip. He tumbled quite ungracefully, off the roof and onto the balcony floor in an ungraceful thud, his face a vivid crimson beneath his black mask. 

“What’s the matter, kitty. Bug got your tongue?” she said slyly, her finger lightly crooking under his chin, encouraging him to look up at her.

Chat was struggling to formulate a coherent sentence. She had robbed him of his words, his tongue refusing to work as he sat on the ground in a flustered, embarrassed and blushing mess. Watching the suave and overly confident feline try to regain his composure and control over the situation was downright adorable. And he was failing miserably.

“Never knew you kept your baton in the front of your suit, Chat. Might want to get that checked. It certainly has a mind of it’s own.” Mari teased lightly, a heated blush tinting her lovely freckled face when her eyes finally lowered to a very prominent bulge, straining against Chat’s suit. 

_Oh,_ Marinette realised, sapphire eyes going wide, _He’s … larger than I anticipated._

“Well, if you’re so keen on staying up here, guess I’ll just have to sleep in my sexy-ass lingerie all on my own.” she gave a mournful sigh, preparing to climb back down. She unwrapped the blanket from her shoulders, leaving in folded on the deck chair, before turning to leave for her room. 

But before she could make the step down to her bed, arms suddenly pulled her from behind. With a gasp she found herself spinning around, her lips captured by Chat’s in a fierce and heated kiss. Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt him press his forehead against hers, nose rubbing affectionately against her own. He kissed her hard and she met his kiss with the same vigour, need and desperation he had for her, both of them moaning as lips, teeth and tongues met in a familiar sensual dance. 

Marinette found herself being pushed back, until Chat had carefully pressed her against he fall, the hard lines of his body flushing warm, as he stepped into her space. He fit against her small frame and soft curves so perfectly. She wrapped her arms tight around his neck, hands running and stroking his tousled golden hair and his extra cat ears, sighing softly into his mouth when one of his legs slipped in between her own, their lower halves ever so close.

When the need for air became too much for them, he pulled away, only to pepper ardent kisses along her swan like neck. She held him close to her, encouraging him, wanting more and she panted and moaned sweet nothings into the evening night. Her entire body was on fire, her skin so sensitive and attune to him. _God!_ She had missed this! She had missed him so much! Although her head screamed at her, things were going too fast, for the first time in her life she told the smart and the ‘ever-the-good-daughter’ part of her brain to go screw herself. She needed to be with Adrien; she needed to _feel_ him again. Too long had she gone without him. Her heart needed to heal as did his. And there was only so much a good heartfelt conversation could heal. No. They needed to _be_ together, to connect intimately; both of them exploring and reaffirming boundaries, remembering how they shared their discoveries and most intimate sides together in their own private world. Only then their hearts would feel completely whole again and things would finally be all right.

Through the thin cotton of her night gown and underwear she could feel him everywhere. She breathed in his heady masculine smell; of leather, musk, cologne and the evening air and it sent her into a a sweet aroused bliss. She was being overwhelmed by him; drowning in him and she didn’t care. She wanted to be consumed by him right until she felt nothing else. She knew only him. And he felt so wonderful, the way his warm hard chest, pressed against the soft swell of her breasts, the mind-numbing delirium his mouth left, as he sucked and kissed at the skin of her neck, which she knew would bruise later. She loved the way he groaned against her throat, his breath hot and desperate, as the soft smooth texture of his gloves stroked and adored wherever he dared to touch. And everywhere Chat’s hands wandered, every where he touched, he loved. And she adored knowing the fact that she was making him like this; it made her feel strangely powerful knowing she had the ability to bring out a much more carnal and almost predatory side of the man she loved so much; a side that had him longing for her with all of his heart, soul and most of all, his body. How could she not feel so beautiful and sexually enticing whenever his hips rocked and rutted against her own, both of them desperately seeking the pleasurable friction that their bodies craved for. His suit hid nothing; she could feel everything, especially him against her thigh, throbbing, incredibly large and very hard that she wondered if being in such a tight confines hurt him. Even in such an aroused state, she still worried about him; he didn’t want him to be in pain, not like this. Something like this had to be shared between the two of them; it was something that the both of them had to enjoy, together. 

Marinette didn’t want to be the only one that felt wonderful. And she certainly didn’t want Chat in anymore pain. As her heart pounded in her ears and thrashed in her ribcage, a delicious warmth that had quickly begun to well deep in the pit of her stomach, began to sink burning hot, travelling lower and lower, spreading down and in between her thighs. 

“C-Chat!” she gave a soft cry, when fangs lightly nipped at the tender flesh of her throat. “Th-this isn’t the best place! W-we’re outside!”

“And just another to cross of our bucket list.” he murmured against her neck. “Though I do admit, we need to get somewhere a little more comfortable. I’m not done with you yet.”

“You suit! How will you - I mean, can you take it off?”

Marinette felt him smirk against her neck, as he gave a chuckle. “Before I arrived, I tested the zipper. Can’t take the suit off completely; only the top part. But the zip can go all the way down.”

Marinette’s heart clenched, butterflies fluttering in her stomach when Adrien pulled away so he could look at her. Sapphire eyes were full of want, her beautiful face flushed with arousal. But there was uncertainty in her eyes. She was still scared. She wasn’t ready. He knew that. And he respected her feelings. That, and they were still trying to fix things between them. Despite how much he wanted her, and he wanted her _so_ much, it wasn’t the time yet. He knew that time would be soon. But tonight wasn’t that night. And he wouldn’t take that from her.

“We can stop if-” he began but Marinette quickly shook her head, suddenly very shy.

“I’m … n-not ready for, um … _that,_ but I still … I mean, I want to-”

She really didn’t know how to say it. She was far too embarrassed. And the nerves that had started twisting in her stomach had caused her mouth to stop working. She could only look at Adrien with hesitant yet needy eyes.

And Adrien understood what she wanted; he understood completely. He wanted it too.

“Okay.” he said quietly.

He stepped away from her, trying to ignore his aching need, caught tight in his suit, as he led her down the skylight, back to her bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Let the sin, begin ... :3 
> 
> (more sin in the next chapter, I'm currently writing it)


	44. The Heat In Between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This fanfiction is now rated Mature, thus is suitable for 'mature' audiences.

Marinette easily landed on her bunk bed, watching Chat climb down carefully, wincing from the movement,as he sat opposite her. She bit her lip. He had to be in pain, with a suit as tight as his. Despite how nervous she was, she didn’t want him to hurt anymore. And it wasn’t as if they hadn’t done things like this, be it only a couple of times. Yet those times had been unexpected, clumsy. Just thee two of them; exploring and discovering things in a heated yet innocent curiosity, without knowledge or direction of what to do. Regardless of how nervous either of them had been, he had always been attentive to her wants and needs. Adrien had a heart of gold; he had always made sure her desires came first. It was one of the many things why she loved him so much. He was so selfless, even when it came to the intimate moments that they had shared. As for Marinette, she had always been too embarrassed to look down _there_ at him. And her eyes always been far too enamoured by his the agonised pleasured bliss that graced his face when she touched him. Although she had worked up the courage to touch him, to recognise just how wonderful he felt, so hot, smooth and heavy in the palm of her hand, she had been too shy to go all the way and simply look; to push past the heavy fabric and let her eyes see all of him.

But tonight she knew him; those few times they had touched each other intimately, she had learned all she needed to know to bring him to the absolute brink, until Adrien drowned in sweet warmth as he panted his release against her neck. With that knowledge, she felt a little more confident. It was his turn to feel selfish; to want things, to feel things … to receive something that only _she_ could give him.

Marinette reached for the golden bell at Adrien’s throat. She watched evergreen eyes she loved so much go wide, gloved hangs immediately stopping her from her task.

“I … I want to. Can I?” she asked him softly.

Adrien’s eyes softened. “Mari,” he said quietly and she shivered when he used her name. “You don’t have to if you-”

“I _want_ to.” she repeated. And she did. She was okay. She had never been more certain.

Adrien’s hand paused, his breath hitching in his throat. She could see it in his eyes. they were glowing with understanding and want. When he finally nodded, his hands returned to Marinette’s bed sheets, letting her continue. Tonight he was giving her free reign.

“We have to be quiet.” she whispered. Her parents were downstairs after all. Chat could only nod, watching his Lady intently. 

Very slowly she tugged at the bell, the zipper going down with her hand, revealing flesh she knew existed but had never truly seen. She didn’t go all the way, just far enough for her bare hands to hesitantly stroke the surprisingly warm skin. He was as beautiful as he felt, hard lines and sinew and lithe muscle in all the right places, truly a body of a man. Pushing open the suit, she could feel his heartbeat, her fingertips grazing over the rabid pulse, before lightly trailing upwards across his pectorals and back down again. She had remembered something Alya had told her. Letting instinct quite her, she hesitantly let her fingertips stroke lightly to the side, brushing over one of the hardened dark peaks. Chat jerked forward slightly, leaning into her touch and Marinette couldn’t help but want him to feel more. He was just so beautiful like this; seeing such a man like him grow so vulnerable under her touch. And the cuts and scars from the countless battles they had fought together didn’t deter her. Although faint and barely noticeable thanks to the magical healing powers of their miraculous, _she_ could still see them. No amount of power could ever truly hide them away; not from her. She simply knew that part of him too well. Even the soft faded line that reached across Adrien’s lower side; stitch marks, barely there and unnoticeable to anyone but her, from where she had had to help him heal his wound. God, that memory still lingered fresh in her mind; the ripped fabric of his suit and the gash that had cut deep into his side, the bloodied and gaping wound that refused to stop spilling fresh blood all over her hands; his tormented cries and fevered body consumed with pain. With a gentle stroke, she remembered that particular cut, sapphire eyes capturing bright green, silently making him promise to never put her thorough that again. But she knew that every mark that _she_ could see, that only _she_ would ever find, were simply proof of his utmost devotion to her; that this was a man that would fight the void itself if it meant keeping her safe. 

And she would love every scar, every wound he would receive in the many battles ahead of their future together.

Adrien trembled beneath her soft touch; shy, uncertain and utterly wonderful. He couldn’t help but purr from her touch, the sensation of her hands on his bare skin far too wonderfully, as he felt his eyes fall shut.

“Are you okay?” she asked me, glancing at how Chat’s hands were gripping at her sheets.

“Y-yeah.” Chat groaned through clenched teeth, forcing himself to open his eyes. “Keep going, please.”

The earnest and desperate want the that clouded his eyes was all the encouragement she needed. And she slowly pulled the zip all the way down, her eyes marvelling at the strong defined planes of his abs, before focusing on the beginnings of a trail of downy golden hair that extended past his navel. 

“You - _commando?_ Really, Chat?” Marinette teased softly. 

“Was wearing clothes before I transformed …” Chat breathed, warm arousal flushed against his cheeks.

Finally she dared to let her eyes wander; to really look at him properly. The taut suit hid nothing. She could see every outline, the long thick length of him, throbbing tight against the fabric, pressed against his abdomen. She could see him; all of him and sapphire eyes went wide with shy curiosity. 

She reached out, but stopped midway, when Adrien’s breath hitched. She immediately pulled her hand away, fingers curling in on themselves. She didn’t want to continue unless she had his permission but Adrien then proceeded to give a frustrated groan.

“Is something … did I do something wrong?” Marinette murmured, nervous butterflies dancing in her stomach.

Through a hazy lust addled stupor, Chat shook his head.

“You did nothing wrong. P-please, Marinette.” he whispered to her.

“Huh?”

“Just … please touch me. Don’t stop!” he begged softly.

Heart full, throbbing in her ribcage, she nodded. Watching Adrien’s reactions with baited breath, she reached forward, pulling at the fabric just above his erection, finally freeing him of his confines.

And she gasped, blushing bright red but she couldn’t look away. How could a man be beautiful everywhere? Surely it was impossible; humans weren’t without imperfections. But the man that finally lay bare before her, just like his golden heart, was truly exquisite and masculine. And the throbbing warmth that had pooled hot between in her thighs only ignited further; the delicious ache spreading through her loins down every nerve through her body. Resting against his lower abdomen, Chat was sight to behold, long, thick, much larger than she had anticipated, a trail of dark golden hair eventually leading into a column of hard sensitive flesh, which throbbed in anticipation for her touch. The crown of his head was swollen, just like the heavy sac that lay at the base, rosy, and it glistened in the dim lighting of the room, where his arousal had begun to dew and seep.

Unknown to Marinette, Adrien watched and waited; nerves going haywire along with a state of arousal that had bordered along the lines of painful. His Princess was finally seeing him like this and in such a state; he was utterly helpless, vulnerable. He was in her hands; there was no one else in this world he trusted that would accept when he was like this. But anxiety gnawed in the back of his mind. It wasn’t enough to dampen weeks of frustration, loneliness and need for the woman who stared at his hardened length with such shy innocence and genuine curiosity. The way she looked at him; the way her eyes wandered, fully absorbing and understanding such and intimate part of him, it was more than enough to make him go weak with ecstasy to the point he had no choice but to submit to her adoring gaze. He was so hard that it hurt. There were so many nights he had dreamed heated dreams of his Lady kissing him, touching his body and pleasuring him. Then there were the nights that had become darker, far more sinful, far more tender. He dreamed of his beautiful Princess moaning and sobbing sweet nothings into his ear, writhing against tousled bedsheets, as he brought her release. And now, those dreams were more than reality; they were fate, destiny, a path set for him long ago. It was his destiny to love and thus be loved by Marinette Dupain-Cheng. He had learned to love her with all his of his heart; loving her with open and tender hearts such as theirs had been both a struggle but still beautiful in its own imperfect way. He had believed in her since the first day he met her; vowing he would help her pursue her dreams and passions with the same strong and determined mindset she had always had. But both of them had yet to fully understand what it meant to love another person and express that same love in a more physical manner. They had kissed. They had hugged. They had held each other. They had started to brave new territories but shy embarrassment interfered with that physical commitment, and the desperate desire to finally connect with someone heart, body and soul. But here they were, about to break those final boundaries after weeks of not being with each other. And Adrien was more than ready.

But he was still worried. _What if … what if she found him strange there, or worse, what if she freaked out at the last minute?!_ He would always consider her feelings; respect her decisions but Adrien was helpless? What his head rationalised was not what his heart needed nor what his body craved. And he craved Marinette’s touch; he wanted her to touch him so badly.

But it was his Princess that interrupted him from his internal anxious monologue. Her voice was soft, a shy and surprisingly awed expression gracing her beautiful freckled face. Lapis lazuli eyes were dark with want for him. And Adrien’s heart nearly gave out on him.

“You’re so big. I n-never realised.”

Even in his state, the cat-side got to him and he gave a slight smirk. “I work out, Princess.”

“C-Can I touch you now?” 

_Oh for the love of - !_

The way she asked him, uncertain, nervous with an adorable yet shy and enticing inquisitiveness that it was almost his undoing; desire surging hot and deep in his loins, all of that heat travelling south and pinpointing to his throbbing need.

“Yes! _Please, Mari!_ ” Half purr, half agonised moan through his teeth as he gripped Marinette’s bed sheets.

Thankfully, she was confident in this part. They had explored each other enough to know just what they liked. But Marinette wanted to take her time. And she was still a little self-conscious. Seeing him like this, just as she was about to touch him, to bring him pleasure, knowing she was the one that could make him feel like this, it was all so overwhelming. And it did nothing to settle the pleasurable ache between her legs; the warm wetness that had pooled in her panties, and the incredibly sensitive slick flesh of her core, getting harder and harder to ignore. But she had made it this far. And she refused to leave Chat hanging in such a state. It was _his_ turn to be a little selfish, for once. And she wanted to make sure that he enjoyed every moment that she knew _she_ would. 

Fingers lightly trailed over the sensitive flesh before quickly wrapping around the thick heated column, reminiscing how wonderful he felt in the palm of her hand. He was harder than steel yet smoother than velvet, engorged and burning with desire. She pumped in slowly, allowing him to remember her.

A low moan fell from Adrien’s lips, eyes squeezed shut as a look of pleasured bliss danced across his face. His pelvis rose to meet her hand in a desperate attempt to feel more of her sinful touch. But as he did, she loosened her grip and Chat gave a whine. Words and coherent sentences had been robbed from him. He couldn’t concentrate. All he knew was her.

“I want you to feel good. Y-you’re always taking charge when we dance. Let me this time.” she whispered, moving a little to kiss his lower collar bone, gently.

“A-As you wish, my Lady.” he moaned.

She could see it in his face, the ongoing battle, using all his will power to not let his hips move in time with her hand. Chat was a powerful man, dangerous too. And she couldn’t help but love the thrill of it all; she was entering critical territory after all, playing with fire and getting her hands dirty … or rather, about to. 

With practiced ease Marinette touched him in the way he secretly loved best, Adrien’s breathy pants quickly transforming into breathy moans, soft gasps and pleased sighs. With her free hand, she pulled Chat close to her, adjusting herself so he could bury his face against the crook of her neck, her hand cradling his head and stroking the back of his neck. He wasted no time, immediately worshipping the tender sensitive skin of her throat, as he kissed, suck and lightly nipped her there with his fangs. But with every pump and stoke of her hand, his actions faltered, pausing when a particular touch robbed him of his senses. All the while he grew larger, hotter and harder in her grip. She pumped him firmly at first, controlling her grip slowly, tightening her hand with a slight twist of her wrist whenever she neared the sensitive swollen head. The previous that had dewed in the beginning, began to dribble freely, aiding her slick movements, giving Adrien the perfect amount of friction. Then, without giving him any warning, she would suddenly change the tension of her hand, stroking him quickly, fingers barely brushing the surface of his length. Chat’s breathing would hitch, a startled gasp escaping his lips whenever she changed her touch, hips jerking uncontrollably against her, as he fought his own body not to give in. He struggled to keep his eyes open; he wanted to watch her face, he needed to gaze into lapis lazuli eyes that he would happily lose himself in. 

But this was battle he was slowly losing. The more she touched him, the more he lost himself to the wondrous ecstasy that she had created for him. Like a puppet, his body was being controlled, lead in an intimate dance, one that had completely hypnotised him with the sweetest, loving and most pleasurable sensations his body had ever experienced. It was as if his entire body was slowly being transformed into hot molten liquid, all pooling burning hot deep within his loins. Excited, feverish and hopelessly aroused and vulnerable to her, the coil deep within his abdomen was beginning to wind tight and snug; he was on the fast road towards release. His breathy pants were hot against her Marinette’s skin, sweat beginning to bead against his forehead. The overwhelming pleasure was becoming far too much, all stemming from that single point between his thighs. That pleasure poured through his body, spreading up through his abdomen, creeping up his spine, and down his thighs, and calves, all the way to tips of his toes. Resistance was futile. His mind was in a complete lusty haze that any form of coherent thinking was gone. He could no longer rationalise his situation. He couldn’t control the sounds that fell from his mouth. And he no longer cared. Although he tried to keep quiet, the risk of her parent’s discovering them in such a state was the last thing he wanted.

No longer could he stop himself from thrusting his hips into Marinette’s grip, rolling in sync with her every touch. She was the catalyst to that pleasure. And he was spiralling dangerously out of control. She was the source of ever sensation that assaulted his body that drove him closer and closer to the brink.

Marinette paused momentarily, carefully but firmly letting her fingertips rub across the sensitive underside of his head, putting pressure along there tender skin. 

Chat’s eye’s flew open in shock against her neck, his hips buckling, as he quickly buried his face deeper into his Princess’s throat, attempting to muffle a pleasured cry. The sound was music to her ears and Marinette felt her core clench, desperate desire raging through her body as she shifted, hoping to alleviate the ache there. There was only sweet friction and even more pressure against her own wet arousal. 

“D-do you feel good?” she asked softly, pausing to give him a moment to breathe before repeating the action. She was rewarded with the same response, only this time she kept going, purposely teasing the overly sensitive flesh. All the while, her fingers were soaked with fresh arousal that had flowed wet from the crown of his length. And Adrien’s cries turned into soft urgent whimpers, his entire body humming and writhing, flushed against her own. He was close; teetering on the very precipice.

“Y-yes, it - _God! Feels …wonderful! Don’t stop!_ ” he pleaded her.

So she didn’t. She began to move her hand vigorously, stroking him firmly, always twisting her hand whenever she reached the swollen head, giving him the friction he needed. The urgency in the way thrust his hips into her hand grew and grew with each passing moment; his breathing laboured and he struggled to muffle and keep his moans at bay. Yet Marinette wouldn’t stop. She was determined to bring him to the brink. And Adrien found himself suspended in a moment of pleasured bliss that had robbed him of his entire senses. The sensations that had taken ahold of his mind, body and soul had refused to let him go and he could do nothing but let himself be swept away by the sinful euphoria she had cast upon him. He was far too gone; his body consumed by burning warmth that electrified his entire being, as he writhed and bucked into her loving hand. If he was to die at that very moment, he wouldn’t have cared. It truly would have been the sweetest of deaths. Almost! He was so close; just a few more strokes. 

Marinette could feel him pulse and swell under her grip. He was balancing dangerously on the edge. With one last firm stroke and gentle graze of her fingertips to the sensitive underside of his heated length, Adrien finally froze, a faint gasp falling from his lips. 

It was as if a hot bolt of lightning ran down back to the base of his spine, and up his throbbing shaft, as he finally felt himself explode, unable to hold back or stop himself. Marinette gave a soft cry when she felt him bite her neck; in the attempts to stop himself from screaming his release and she more than welcomed the possessive and intimate touch. The pleasure had been too much on her partner’s body that the sheer ecstasy of it made him go blind; as he jerked frantically into a touch that continued to pleasure him. She drew out his release, watching in a hazy and aroused fascination at the thick milky liquid that spilled onto her fingertips and into her palm, his throbbing length pulsing as wave after wave of pleasure swept through him. His release was long and Adrien whimpered as he trembled, incredibly sensitive; the pleasure quite stubbornly dissipated very slowly. He smelt of sweat, musk and sex; the scent so enticing and masculine, as she breathed him in. With his entire body slick under his skin-tight suit, Chat’s breathing slowly calmed, a delightful purr rumbling deep within his chest. His body felt heavy, like lead, a sudden wave of exhaustion hitting him. No longer was the coil that wound tight and burning hot in his lower abdomen sending him into a state of heightened ecstasy. Instead, Marinette had left him warm, safe and incredibly sated.

Chat opened his eyes, still heavy from what had just happened and he met lapis lazuli once more. 

“Mari. Are you …” he whispered, reaching up to brush her cheek.

He found himself being pushed against the wall, as Marinette caught him in a fierce kiss.

“Princess! What-” he began but was cut off when she gave the softest of whimpers.

And that’s when he finally saw her; all of her.

Her beautiful face was flushed with heavy arousal, her entire body writhing and trembling beneath his hands. And in the soft moonlight that fell through her bedroom skylight, she glowed. And it was only then Chat finally see just how soft and semi-transparent the thin cotton of her white nightdress, was. The colour was so pure, feminine, innocent yet with a slight hint of coquettish, demure charm. Trimmed in lace with a soft sweet heart neckline, the nightie was a perfect representation of her character. But gazing at her desperate longing and the heated desire that radiated from her entire being right now, set every nerve in his body alight with passion for her once more.The fabric hung from her body, scrunched, tousled and loose, the swell of her breasts and their pert peaks, pushing against the fabric and he found he could not look away from his incredible Princess. Heart pounding as he finally understood the urgency for his Princess to feel something; for him to do _anything,_ he finally realised how truly aroused she was. He dared his eyes to travel lower, the floaty soft material pooling and softly hugging her slender waist, creating the most perfect path that led to her milky unmarred thighs and calves. And with the way she kept pressing and rubbing her legs to give her body the sweet friction she needed, Adrien could feel himself stir burning hot once more, heat pooling right into his groin as he felt himself become hard again. Though the night dress hid what lay underneath, he already knew not even in his wildest dreams and darkest fantasies could describe what he wanted for her; what he wanted her to _feel._

“Ch-chat … I …” she pleaded. She felt too hot; the ache between her thighs was unbearable.

Adrien wasted no time, placing a gentle finger against her lips. His Lady had been so attentive and so compassionate to his own needs. And though he had put himself in an incredibly vulnerable position, there was no one on this earth his heart trusted and loved more than Marinette. This wasn’t about repaying favours. This was a promise; fate. Tonight she had given him something he would never forget. And now it was his turn.

“I can’t touch you with my hands. My claws.” he said softly, eyes mournful.

Marinette’s lust filled eyes were full of dismay but before she could voice her protests he hushed her.

“Lie down, Princess.”

“A-Adrien! I-” she whimpered.

“Shhh. I know. Lie down, Mari. Let me take care of you.” 

With gentle hands, he urged her to rest against the bed sheets, until she was comfortable, head lying on her feathered pillow. Confused and uncertain, Marinette did as he told her. She trusted him explicitly; Adrien would never hurt her. Chat would never hurt her. But she couldn’t understand the heat in his eyes and the slight smirk that had graced his lips. And for some reason, that smirk did nothing to ease the longing she felt deep within her core. Freckled cheeks flushed with shy embarrassment when she realised just how wet her panties were.

With quick serpentine grace, he slid down her body, an exceptionally handsome face and ardent evergreen cat-eyes disappearing from her sight.

“Chat. What are you going to … _Chat!_ ” she gave a soft squeal when she felt leather-clad hands stroke the inside of her thighs, slowly, urging her to open them wider. 

And Marinette gave a soft moan, heated embarrassment flashing across her face when she finally realised what the feline superhero was planning.

She felt him push her legs up, until her feet were planted firmly on the sheets, causing her knees to crook upwards. And the soft fabric no longer had anything to hold onto, sliding down past her thighs and pooling at her waist. Her lower half was finally exposed.

Chat groaned at the sight. The sight of Marinette so aroused had been enough to make him hard once more. The breathtaking vision of his Princess, flushed against her bed sheets, trembling in such a desirable wanton state, thighs open on either side of him, was the catalyst. And finally he saw her there. And Chat winced as he throbbed, forgetting all embarrassment and shame. Marinette’s eyes wandered to his lower half, and she moaned at the sight of his own need, swollen and hard, the sensations and need he felt mirroring his own when he finally glanced at her cotton panties. 

Although still covered, he could see everything. He could smell _everything._ In his Miraculous form, every one of his senses had been heightened and his Princess was everything and more right now. She looked utterly ravishing, panting with desire for him that it drove him to insanity, bringing out the predatory animal within him and he wanted nothing more to stake his claim on her. She felt wonderful beneath his hands, like silk and cloud, so delicate yet firm trim muscle reminded him that not only was she delicate; she was also a warrior, brave and true, an extraordinary juxtaposition. And her scent … oh _god!_ She smelt heavenly. She always had a scent of sweet vanilla, musk, and something far more erotic he had never been able to place it. Ladybug always had it. Marinette always had it. But he couldn’t name it; it was hot, spicy. And now it permeated and assaulted his senses. And the scent only grew stronger and more distinct with every passing second, the longer he gazed at the beautiful woman that lay before him. And the scent was its strongest at the juncture of his Lady’s thighs. 

Even in the dim lighting, he could see, and he savoured every detail. The way the valley of both thighs, downwards, was smooth, unblemished. Instead, the light dusting of freckles that traveled lower and lower, only enticed him, like a trail. And her white panties, were beyond damp; they glistened in the soft lighting.

Marinette couldn’t feel him do it. It was all so sudden when it happened.

“You won’t need these.” he said huskily, leaning in so he could press a tender kiss to the side of her left knee. 

She noticed his claws on either side of her hips, stroking the rise of her hip bones. She heard the sound of a rip. Fabric tore, and a wet scrap of white was tossed elsewhere, forgotten. A rush of cool air suddenly assaulted her now very bare and open wet sex, and Marinette gasped.

There was nothing she could have done. She couldn’t even move her hands to hide herself from him. She had completely frozen; heart pounding erratically in her chest when she finally understood what Adrien longed to do. With ease he settled himself in between her thighs, lying down on his front, hands and claws carefully stroking her thighs in loving and encouraging touches.

Marinette had never done anything like this before. Never had she ever considered showing this part of her to someone like this. It was too intimate; too forward. Yet here she was; before the man she loved with all of her heart, trusting him explicitly. But she still couldn’t help but feel nervous, and embarrassed. What if … what if Adrien didn’t like her there?

But a soft tender kiss on the inside of her thigh, very close to where she needed to be touched the most, surprisingly settled her heart. 

“Mari - you’re so beautiful. You’re so beautiful everywhere!” he murmured against her skin. And she was; soft raven curls, crowning, something so similar, just as beautiful and soft as the lips he often kissed. Plump sensitive flesh, dark with arousal, core open and begging to be explored and delved inside, and peaking through the folds of her flesh, a pearl of rounded flesh, swollen, throbbing and aching to be teased. Adrien’s length painfully throbbed against the bed sheets, and he hesitantly shifted his hips to ease the pain. It did nothing but fuel the hunger he had for her. He wanted to make her his.

Marinette could only gasp a response; the warmth of his breath fanning over her sensitive sex.

“Do you trust me, Mari? Do you want this?”

A hesitant shyness clouded in lusty lapis lazuli irises. 

“Yes … I … I want this. I want you.” She whispered.

_Then you have me, Princess._

And Adrien finally indulged, dipping his head.

“W-Wait! What are you … _oh!_ ”

He couldn’t touch her with his fingertips, not with claws such as his and especially at such a delicate place. But he had other means. And still in his Miraculous form, the cat-side of him yearned to taste her. As himself, he should have been more embarrassed and shy about attempting something like this so soon; he had been raised a gentleman after all. But as Chat, the longing and desire he had for her, had completely taken a hold of him, and he wanted nothing more to completely posses her and make every part of her, his. And if it meant marking her, so that she would remember who she belonged to, so be it.

He buried his face in between her thighs, his mouth pressing a light kiss to her womanly folds, coated in her sweet honeyed arousal. 

“You’re so wet.” he purred against her skin.

“Shut up Ch- _ahhhh!_ ” she gave a faint cry, her head falling back on the pillows when Chat gave her most intimate place a long, slow and saucy lick with the tip of his tongue. And he groaned; she tasted exactly how she smelt, absolutely intoxicating. And the way she moaned and hesitantly bucked against his lips more than enough to ignite another quick spark of arousal that went straight to his groin.

Marinette had never expected this to happen; this far exceeded her wildest imaginations. And right now, Chat was bringing her to such a heavy state of pleasured bliss she couldn’t even determine reality from dream state. She had never felt so good before. Dreams and fantasies felt nothing like this. Why did the sinful and provocative reality of Chat pleasuring her in such a manner, make her feel so incredible? She should have been more ashamed; she should have felt some hesitance, but the way he loved her, kissed her, suckled and lapped at her most sensitive and secret of places with his lips and teeth was absolutely maddening. And she could do nothing to stop him. With one hand she found herself pulling him closer to her sex, hand cradling his head as he liked eagerly between her thighs. With her other hand, she tried to muffle the sweet moans and mewls that escaped her lips.

“Mari, you have to be quiet.” he teased.

“I’m - I’m, ah! Trying … _oh!_ ” 

Marinette uttered a soft moan, eyes flying open with shock when Chat purred softly, his lips sucking her clit as he did so. The soft teasing vibrations sent a wave of pleasure to roll in her lower abdomen and fresh arousal to pool and drip from her aching core, that longed to be filled with his fingers. She knew that would never happen, at least for tonight. When the purring refused to cease, Marinette tried to push him away, the teasing touch that filled her lower half with such warm melty excitement was more than she could take. But Chat was relentless.

“Princess, do you like this?” he murmured against her thigh, before delving his tongue so suddenly into her hot wet channel, tasting the pooling arousal that had begun to flow freely from her core. Marinette arched her back, a muffled cry falling from her lips, as he held her hips down with his hands, losing all sense of reality. 

Never stopping his ministrations, he glanced up, evergreen eyes enamoured by her trembling form. Sapphire eyes were hidden behind her eyelids, the wonderful sensation of Chat touching her had been too overwhelming so she squeezed her eyes shut. Her beautiful freckled face was flushed, twisted in pleasured bliss, as she tossed her head against her pillow, raven hair fanning out like a beautiful thick halo around her head.

_God!_ He couldn’t get any harder, his lower half rutting into the bed, giving himself the friction he so desperately needed. Though not nearly as incredible as her loving touch, it would have to do. 

Tracing his tongue up her wet folds, he easily found the throbbing nub hidden at the top of her sex, lightly flicking it back and forth. He hadn’t expected her to be so sensitive; to react to his touch so suddenly. He carefully loved her, tongue lapping and nudging at her clit in a light yet steady motion.

“Oh! Oh, god!” she cried into her hand, hips trembling beneath his hand, desperate to try to keep quiet. She didn’t want her parents to hear.

_I’ll make you feel good, Mari._ Beginning to rub and stroke his tongue against her sweet spot with the same determination and arousal she had given him, setting her lower half alight with a sudden burst of pleasure, as he teased the tiny bundle of nerves.

“Ch-chat! That - ah! Feels so good! _Don’t stop!_ ”

_Mine!_

Watching Adrien as she brought him to the brink had made her so desperate for her own release that she had become exceptionally sensitive. And with Chat loving her so carefully and attentively with the tip of his tongue, fondling her sweet spot to the point of oblivion, she wasn’t going to last long. And soon her earlier embarrassment faded, her own hips began rocking in in sync in time with every light flick of his tongue or teasing suck of his lips, soft delighted mewls and moans falling from her own mouth. She tried to move closer to him; she was at his complete mercy, completely controlled by the sweet ecstasy that clouded her mind and consumed her loins. But his strong authoritative hands held her firmly to the bed.

She hadn’t expected something so small, so secret and so insignificant, to be the one thing that would finally bring her body to a complete state of heated euphoric desire. But the gentle vibrations to that one point on her body, and could no longer withstand the sweet torment, was much too sudden and far too great. 

Purring lowly in his throat, the vibrations from his lips teased her, fondling the tiny yet sensitive flesh a little firmer; more insistent. Marinette felt her body finally ignite; that had been the final push. With a cry into the palm of her hand, she found herself jerking and bucking her hips violently against his mouth, pleasure mounting and spiralling out of control as her world broke, pin pointing at the one spot Chat relentlessly teased. He never stopped loving her, as he coaxed her orgasm from her, her muffled cries and moans music to his ears. He too was nearing yet another release, panting and gasping as his own hips began to rut faster and harder into the sheets.

The euphoria that hit her was breathtaking as she fell, and the pleasure refused to let her go, and she honestly didn’t want it to. Never had she felt this good, and with a final breaking wave and a broken cry, she gave one last buckle into Chat’s mouth, moving desperately against him. That final wanton sound had been his breaking point. Adrien too, fell over the edge for the second time, his entire body freezing momentarily. With a quiet groan against her thigh, eyes fluttering shut, he came, as that sweet burning pleasure exploded and spilled onto the bedsheets.

Both of them were trembling; bodies heavy and overly sensitive from satiated bliss. Marinette’s heart pounded frantically in her chest, the tightness that had suddenly and violently exploded and robbed her of her breath and her entire strength, now gone. All that was replaced was a heavy, lethargic and very warm body, sapphire eyes fluttering open with hazy confusion.

Chat moved a little; pulling back. She didn’t feel him, as she very slowly shifted herself. With a tired hand, she managed to somewhat push her nightgown back down. Slowly coming to her senses, shy embarrassment and a slight wave of self-consciousness settled in her stomach. With a blush, she regained some of her modesty, although there was no point. Chat had just given her the most mind-blowing orgasm with his tongue alone. That was certainly a very sinful, heated memory to keep and it wasn’t one she could bury in the back of her mind and forget. She didn’t want to for starters; she wanted to remember tonight’s intimacy, the amazing sensations, the closeness and longing she felt in her heart, her absolute trust in him and how truly amazing it felt when that trust was reciprocated. She wanted to tell him this; that tonight was more than special. She would remember it forever and she looked forward to the next time they shared something like this.

But Adrien was silent. He hadn’t said anything for the past few minutes. Hesitantly, she managed to push herself up with the waning strength she had left; she was minutes away from passing out. Her post-orgasmic state had left her absolutely exhausted.

“Adrien? What’s wrong?”

Adrien said nothing, quickly turning his head away from her. He flinched. And Marinette’s heart cracked. Wait? _Huh?!_ Why was he acting so distant all of a sudden? Not after what they had shared! 

I“Ch-Chat? What’s wrong?”

“Mari! I’m sorry!” He looked so mortified and ashamed that the crack in her heart finally broke. “I didn’t mean to. Especially on your bedsheets!”

“What are you talking about?”

Chat finally had the courage to move, still unable to face her, and purposely turning his front side away. 

And that’s when she saw it. On her bed sheets. The milky white stain. 

Chat had … whilst he had … to her … _oh._

“Chat - did you …?” 

She couldn’t finish the sentence. She just stared at his shame-stricken face. Even with his mask, she could see the torment. And that shame was tearing Chat apart from the inside and nothing hurt Marinette more.

“I’m … _God! I’m sorry!”_

“Oh, kitty. I’m not mad.” she said gently.

Taking a few tissues from the tissue box next to her pillow, she carefully wiped most of the wet away. With a shy blush, she watched the warm wet absorb quickly. There would be a stain but she would worry about it the coming morning. There was a feline to take care of.

“Chat, look at me.”

When Chat didn’t, she urged him again, raising her voice slightly. 

“ _Adrien,”_ Marinette urged softly, a sigh of relief falling from her lips when the man she loved finally turned. He looked utterly crestfallen, an embarrassed flush had reddened his cheeks.

_“_ Listen. It’s okay.”

“You … you aren’t mad?” he asked him, voice hesitant. He didn’t know what to do or say, honestly. He was mortified; so ashamed over what he’d done. What was worse, the front of his suit was sticky; a wet mess staining his lower half and still very naked length.

“Of course I’m not. How could I be?”

_“Marinette.”_

With a shy and smile, she leaned forward and carefully wiped him and his suit clean, knowing he would still be very sensitive. Scrunching the wet tissues and wrapping them in a fresh one, she placed that to the side to be thrown away later. And with a gentle hand, she carefully tucked away his length. Adrien gasped when she touched him but did not flinch away from her this time, as she carefully and lovingly placed and zipped him back up until the suit closed mid-way.

“There. See, chatton? All clean. All better.”

“ _Mari._ ” he whispered, gently taking her chin in between his thumb and finger. He urged her to look at him.

Evergreen eyes softened; so different from the dark heated lust from just a few moments ago. 

She couldn’t help it, not when his voice was so tender. And he looked so perfect; tonight she had got to see that every part of him, inside and out, was perfect.

Leaning forward, Marinette kissed him softly. A kiss, which he most happily returned, sighing softly. The kiss was the perfect gesture; a promise and a tender reminder of what happened between them … and what would happen in the very near future.

“Will … w-will you stay the night? Or should I say, morning?” she asked quietly, when she finally pulled away.

“So as long as your parents don’t catch us.”

“I’ll set my alarm.”

“Of course, I’ll stay.” 

Marinette gave a shy smile, letting the kind and beautiful superhero lay her down her bed, as he tucked her in. It wasn’t long until he was lying next to her, holding her close to him in his arms.

“That was fun.” she sighed, giving a quiet yawn. She heard him chuckle as he nuzzled her dark hair, purring.

“It was fun. Wasn’t it.”

“Will you change back, when we fall asleep?”

Adrien gave a shrug. “Most likely. And I’m gonna get such a hiding from Plagg.”

“Good thing I’ll be here.”

“Where was Tiki, when we were, um - you know …”

“I told Tiki I wanted to talk with you alone. She got the gist fairly quickly.” Marinette chuckled sheepishly. “She seems oddly supportive about us being _‘closer’,_ as she put it.”

“Well I’m more than thankful for that. It’s certainly a step up from Plagg’s annoying ass.”

Both of them went quiet for a moment, content with being in each other’s arms. The silence was welcoming. Both of them were exhausted. What had just transpired that night was so more than just ‘fun’. It was beautiful. It was perfect. Binding. Honest. Simply _more._

“Do .. do you remember that film project we all had to do?” His Princess asked suddenly, as Adrien had started to stroke his gloved fingers through soft raven locks.

“The one where Chloe interrupted me from kissing you. I was really peeved off.”

“Were you? R-really?”

“Of course. I mean, I could have had the chance to kiss this amazing and the most popular girl in our class, but she ruined the moment.”

She scoffed. “Popular? Seriously?”

“Think about it Mari. Aside from Chloe, who _didn’t_ like you? I mean even Sabrina got on well with you despite her loyalties to a certain someone.”

The more she thought about it, the more she realised what he said was true. Alya was he best friend since middle school. But aside from that, she had made friends with everyone in her class; there was no one that didn’t have her back when she needed it most, believed in her and supported her decisions when she had fought to be class representative. Knowing that now was surprisingly humbling.

“Like I said Mari, you were the most popular girl in class. As well as the kindest and most genuine. Everyone liked you. How could they not?” Adrien said with a smile. 

“Well, at least you were my first kiss. Chat was my first kiss … which technically means you were. But you probably don’t remember that.”

“And you have no idea how thankful I am that I was your first. And you were mine. Even if I _don’t_ remember it.” Adrien brushed his lips against her slick forehead, now beginning to cool after their shared heated experience.

“You were my first for a lot of things. I mean; first crush, first love of my life.”

“First enemy, if you think about it. You thought I stuck that gum on your seat.” 

Marinette gave a laugh, her fingertips lightly tracing the chiseled lines of her partner’s jaw, marvelling at the beautiful man that he was.

“Sorry. That spot’s always reserved for Chloe.”

“You were my first friend; or my first _real_ friend when I started school. I mean, I didn’t know anyone and then that moment in the rain when I handed you my umbrella. Do you remember?”

_Did he really even need to ask?_

The memory seemed so long ago. They were barely fifteen; no Marinette hadn’t even turned fifteen yet. Their school days seemed so far away; more innocent, when things seemed so reachable. They were certainly naive and more daring about things that it clouded the judgment of many young minds. But despite being it a distant memory, Marinette remembered that day in the rain as if it were yesterday. Most hated rain. She had come to hate it too, ever since the flash flood and the horrible ruin it had done to her family home. Still, not even the most tragic events could take away what she had felt that stormy afternoon. She had discovered a pretty face or rather, the most beautiful man she had ever seen, and she had hated him for it; for being like Chloe. But he had surprised her; he had made her dumbstruck when he revealed his true intentions, his character, his weaknesses and uncertainty. No one else had seen Adrien’s honesty like this; no one had seen this scared and nervous side of him. Yet somehow, quite unexpectedly, she had been the first. Adrien remembered staring into lovely sapphire eyes that went wide from the truth. He remembered her hesitant fingertips brushing his own, as she reached for the umbrella. He swore he could feel the spark of electricity the moment they first touched. Though the sound of thunder and wind roared and boomed behind him, he had barely heard it. Instead he heard the calming sound of rain shower, her soft breathing. He could smell the fresh wet scent of rain and early spring. All he knew was her beautiful freckled face and sapphire eyes that stared at him with genuine acceptance and complete understanding. And all she had known was this extraordinary man with an impossible heart of gold and evergreen eyes she knew she could easily fall in love with. The moment was so perfect, so still, they were suspended and lost upon first meeting. Adrien had fallen in love with Marinette the moment he truly got to talk to her. Marinette felt her heart be taken by the man whom she would not only call her crush but her closest friend and future partner.

Then the umbrella closed in around her, ensnaring her inside. And Adrien had laughed. It had been so unexpected; so silly, so utterly adorable. He just couldn’t help it. And when she shyly peeked out from her hiding place, she had laughed with him, a shared moment of intimacy and true friendship and they had only just met. Still the moment couldn’t have been more wonderful. That day in the rain was truly her most treasured memory. And lying next to him, looking into his beautiful green eyes, she knew he shared the same sentiments.

“Y-you gave me your umbrella.” she finally said, shyly.

“Yeah. It was just … well, funny. But in a really cute way. You were the first person that ever really made me smile. For real, I mean, and in a long time. You didn’t even have to try.”

Marinette could only blush. “You make it sound like something really amazing. All I did was stand under an umbrella.”

“From the first day I met you, Mari, you made me happy. I’m happy when I’m with you. I’m so happy that sometimes it doesn’t seem real.” he confessed hesitantly, a blush now blooming across his cheeks.

Her heart ached. Marinette wasn’t sure if it was possible to love someone more than she already loved them but with Adrien she found herself falling more and more.

“I love you Adrien Agreste-Rousseau.” she whispered against his lips.

Adrien gave her a smile, evergreen eyes shining. “I love you Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette finally gave a yawn and Chat found himself yawning with her, cat ears playfully wiggling against his golden head. Curling up against Chat’s chest, she was lulled to sleep by the soft sound his heartbeat. 

And it wasn’t long until Adrien drifted off into a world of slumber, and where he belonged; safe in Marinette’s embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so ... I give you my very first, full on smut scene. You have no idea how embarrassed I was when I was writing this. Despite the heated content, I wanted to be as descriptive and eloquent as possible, which is very difficult to do without blushing like a complete idiot.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this exceedingly long chapter of absolute Marichat sin!


	45. "I Want Intimacy!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This fanfiction is now rated Mature, thus is suitable for 'mature' audiences.

“I wish you didn’t have to leave in four days.” Alya said quietly. 

The two of them were sitting in the living room of Alya’s family apartment. They had dropped off her sister’s for a sleepover close by, leaving the two of them home alone and to their own devices, sitting on the couch.

“Honestly, me too. But I still have to pay the bills somehow. And now that everything’s fixed between the two us, I’m gonna try to make it back up to Paris, as much as I can.”

“And I’ll try to visit you, as well.”

“Long distance relationships are going to be hard. You know that right?” Nino warned her, voice soft.

“I know. It’s gonna be difficult. But it’s not like you’re in a completely different country. You’re only a few hours away. And a long distance relationship is better than no relationship.”

“That I can agree with.”

“You gonna be busy when you get back?”

“It’s Monaco. It’s always busy and full of life. That’s why it’s pretty cool.”

“You know I mean with work. You took three to four weeks off.”

“Well, I’m the regular DJ at this one club, which pays fairly decently; enough to get me buy and pay rent on my place. I get paid extra on Theme Evenings or Ladies Nights. Work there is pretty much five days a week. And there’s this other place, where I rotate weekends with this other dude. Pretty classy and incredibly exclusive; _L’établissement._ You heard of it?”

Alya’s eyes went wide behind her glasses. “Do I? That place is practically impossible to get in there! There’s one here in Paris. You have to _be_ someone if you just even want to step foot for a quick peek. How’d you land a job at the _L’établissement,_ where you live?”

“I saved the manager from getting mugged.” Nino said with a shrug.

“Wait … you’re not serious, I hope.” Alya scoffed, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m dead serious. I couldn’t let something like that happen to anyone. I’m no Chat Noir but I threw in a few good hits. Thankfully the guys didn’t have guns and I disarmed them from the knives they carried. Working the night scene, you have to learn to keep on your toes and protect yourself at all times. Learned who the guy was after visiting him in hospital. Told him i was a DJ and he invited me to perform one evening for an event; pretty high-end and a big deal for me and he promised that I would be paid. I jumped on the opportunity and I’ve been working their every fortnight in the evenings straight until the morning hours.”

“Wow. You work seven days a week sometimes. Do you ever get a break?”

“Strictly speaking, I work seven nights a week. I’m practically nocturnal. Except on one or two occasions when I go out for the day with a couple of workmates. But in truth I am a night owl.”

“You work so hard.”

“It gets tiring. I admit it. But I do get breaks, long ones too, like this one, on occasion. Though they are rare. I’m always busy. It’s not all bad though. I’ve made good friends, found a good place for myself. It’s beautiful and right next to the water. Though I do live on my own. Rent and basic living is expensive, especially there. I don’t even have a car. I ride a bicycle to work.”

“You know …” Alya said shyly. “I know you’ve made a life for yourself there and you clearly enjoy it. But should you ever decide to, um … come back here permanently, you have a place to live. I mean, my studio space gets pretty lonely most of the times.”

Nino gave a slight smile. “Same with my place. Despite the wealth, how busy it gets there, how lively everything is, it does get lonely. I mean. I was happy the three years I was there. But only sometimes. I missed you too much to really feel at home.”

“Same. Home is where you are.” she said softly; honest and open, just like they had promised each other. 

“One day. I promise. I don’t know where we’ll be then. Paris. Monaco. Heck, we might not even be here when we get to that point.”

“I get that. I just wanted you to know that you always have a place waiting for you should you decide to come back and visit.”

“Thank you, Alya. And I mean it when I say ‘I promise’. We will be together again. Just not now.”

“Yeah. You’ve got your DJ lifestyle.”

“And you’ve got your family, media job at the dance studio _and_ a degree to finish.”

“After that we can think about moving in together.”

“And start making babies.” Nino gave a cheeky grin. Alya whacked him on the chest.

“Remember my parents.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m to be ‘responsible’ and if I get you pregnant before you’re twenty-seven, they’ll disown you and I won’t be able to reproduce ever again.”

“So unfortunately, it’s safe sex until then buddy.”

“Six years isn’t too long of a time to wait. And I look forward to starting that chapter with you.”

Alya blushed, nestling against his chest. “Me too. Surprisingly.”

“Surprisingly?”

“Even when I was growing up, all I wanted to do was work. I never thought about settling down. I certainly didn’t want to be a housewife.”

“A lot of moms have children and still work, yours is still a world class chef.”

“It’s not just that.’”

“Then what is it?”

Alya thought for a moment, tucking her feet beneath her as she rested on her knees and shins.

“I never ever considered that I could be a mom. I mean. I get that I’m the big sister type. I am one. But I never thought I had this … maternal quality about me. I’m not soft. Nor am I exactly sweet.”

“Spicy, perhaps?” Nino joked.

“Exactly. So if you think about it, mother’s are supposed to be … I don’t know. I guess, I’m the last person one would consider to be let in the mom department.”

“Or you’re the first. I for one know you’re going to be a great mom, no matter what you think.”

“I don’t know how to look after kids. I know nothing about babies.”

Nino gave a laugh. “This is coming from the woman who managed to get a whole group of school children to stop panicking when the lights went out in class. And who told them stories and sung songs to them, until their parents came to pick them up? Who cuddled the little boy when he accidentally threw up on himself, and told him it was all gonna be okay?”

“That was nothing. I just … I wasn’t thinking. I just did it. I don’t know.”

“Alya. There is no one on this planet who deserves to be a mom more than you.”

Alya couldn’t stop the pleased blush that dusted across her cheeks. Despite being so awkward with his words when he was younger, Nino certainly knew the right things to say when it came to her. It infuriated her that he could make her feel like a shy and embarrassed school girl once more. She wasn’t the same Alya from when she was fifteen; she had matured, grown more confident. Small honest words such as that shouldn’t have had so much power over her. Perhaps it was because Nino said them? And whatever he said, he always believed in. And he truly believed that she would be an amazing mother in the future.

“You’re a sap, you tit.” she grumbled, letting her long wavy hair fall across her face. It wasn’t much of a hiding place, but it would have to do.

“You love it when I am, wench.”

“I can’t stand you sometimes.”

“Feelings mutual my foxy lady.”

Alya gave him a look. “Foxy. Really?”

“Yup. You’re a sexy and spicy vixen. And besides, when we first started dating, you always had this thing for calling me an awkward turtle.”

“Because you were one. You certainly were when it came to getting your words mixed up. Not to mention that horrible excuse for a false date with Marinette at the zoo.”

Nino cringed. “Please don’t remind me of that. I’ve learned my lesson. Never taking advice from Adrien. Ever!”

“See. _Awkward turtle._ ”

“Insinuating I’m a little slow at things is very insulting.” Nino groused though Alya could see it in his face that he was struggling not to laugh.

“Hey. I’m just stating the obvious.” Alya teased.

“Hey. You love it that I’m ‘slow’ as you put it. And I’d prefer to call it taking my time.”

“Oh really?”

“Sure. I mean. Last time I checked, it’s one of the things you absolutely love about me when I’m making love to you into the mattress. And if I remember, you weren’t complaining when I took it slow that night in the shower.”

Alya’s cheeks suddenly turned a bright red and she gave her boyfriend a quick whack across the head.

“For crying out loud! Stop saying making every conversation we have about how many orgasms you can give me in a day!” she shrieked.

“You said it; not me. And to answer that last part, my record is nine. I intend to make it to twelve before I leave.” Nino said, voice incredibly nonchalant but his grown eyes glinted wickedly behind his glasses.

“I hate you so much! We are talking about something else! Right now!”

“As you wish.”

“Adrien and Marinette. We’re talking about our best friends, now. Have you heard from them recently? I’ve tried contacting but Mari’s phone has been switched off. I want to visit her but I’m still a little worried.” she asked him. 

Nino shook his head, giving her a mournful sigh.

“Nope. Nothing. I mean, Adrien went out last night and never came back home. Kim, Max and I were gonna send out a search party but we got a text from Adrien saying he was on the other side of town; checked in a hotel to stay the night since he was too exhausted to travel back.”

Alya frowned. “Why on earth would he be on the other side of Paris? He hasn’t had any scheduled shoots around there. I should know since I need to know his modelling schedules whenever I do video logs.”

Nino shrugged. “Honestly, I think it’s a bull excuse. But I didn’t want to press anything. I’m sure he has his reasons.”

“I hope he and Mari are okay.”

“Me too. But for their sakes, it’s best to let them solve-” 

Before Nino finish his sentence, his phone buzzed and he took it out of his pocket. Alya watched the surprise in his brown eyes, extend to his remaining facial features. 

“Well this is an interesting turn of events.”

“What is it?”

“Adrien’s asked the both of us to head to the studio at 4:30. Big group film, you have to vlog.”

“Why didn’t he contact me?”

“According to his text, if I’m not mistaken, Anna should be sending you a text about it right … _now._ ”

Sure enough, Alya’s phone buzzed, requiring her filming skills at Latina á Paris.

“Well, guess we’re heading to the studio. But if it’s a group thing, that means Marinette is going to be there. And they’ll be dancing together. I wonder how this is gonna play out, if the two of them haven’t made up yet.”

“Let’s be hopeful. The fact that Adrien’s asked the both of us to come along means this is more than just a formality. He knows _you_ have to be there. It’s your job. But I don’t.”

“That’s true I guess. I mean, you don’t need to be there. And if he was in a bad mood and things are still sour between him and Mari, the last thing he would want is his best friend making it worse. He’s practically asked you to come along and that means he’s on speaking terms with everybody again.”

“Ouch.”

Alya held her hands up in defence. ’You said it; not me. Anyway, if this is the case, I hope it means that things have been sorted out. I don’t want to film the body grinding of two people who are still angry.”

“Body grinding. Seriously?”

“Body grinding. Humping. Foreplay. It’s all the same thing. And it’s pretty much an open invitation to fuck on hard wood dance floors, not to mention other things.”

Nino rolled his eyes. “And I thought I was foul mouthed.”

“You’re just as bad as me, tit. I know that mind of yours. I know exactly what you think”

“That I can’t deny.” 

\-----

Marinette waited for Adrien to pick her up from the bakery, and when he arrived he met her with a shy grin on his face. She couldn’t help but blush. Adrien had left her place in the wee hours of the morning, thankfully before her parents could notice that she had stripped her bed sheets to put fresh ones on. The soiled ones from last night were quickly washed and any evidence of her ‘illicit affair’, as Chat Noir had called it, was long gone.

He smiled as he took her sports bag from her.

“Nice hickey. Or should I say hickeys” Adrien nodded, eyeing the several bruising sucks and bite marks he had left along her collar bones and the expanse of her throat. 

Marinette quickly adjusted her scarf and collar, the blush dusting her cheeks quickly spreading to the rest of her face and down her neck.

“Thank god for turtle necks.” she muttered, adjusting her clothes to appear a little more presentable.

“Won’t you get warm in that when we dance?”

“It’s a leotard and it’s sleeveless, thankfully. But you really didn’t hold back last night, did you?”

“How could I? It was the only thing that stopped me being really loud.’ Adrien said bashfully, rubbing his hand behind his neck. “If anything, I’m glad all the sexual tension was let out last night. I don’t know how I would have managed dancing today, otherwise.”

Marinette had to laugh as she took his hand, as he led her to his car. “Yeah. That’s understandable. Just … try not to get into an awkward situation, kitty.”

Adrien gave his signature chat-like grin. “Scouts honour. Complicated physics equations on a loop.”

“Wow. Your degree must be really boring then.”

“You have no idea.”

The drive over was pleasant. They talked about things both mindful and meaningless. The conversation was idle as it was important, Adrien easily driving with one hand as he made his way down the busy Parisian roads. When not on the gear stick, his other hand was tightly intertwined with Marinette’s, who leaned against the passenger door, with the window down. Adrien couldn’t help but ardently admire how beautiful she was with the wind billowing against her raven hair. 

“All this time.” she murmured to herself.

“What do you mean?”

“Remember when you visited me after the flood? Not as Adrien, but as Chat. I asked you where you were and you said you were helping civilians. But you were no where near the Seine. You were at my house. Helping my family. All that time.”

It wasn’t a question but a revelation and Adrien smiled before turning his eyes back onto the busy road. He gave Marinette’s hand a tight squeeze, which she returned.

“That’s correct, Princess.”

“All this time. You’ve all been helping and standing by me. Protecting me. As both Adrien and Chat.”

She sounded awed, happy and breathless all at once and it warmed his heart. No. It made his heart soar. He didn’t need to look at her to see just how beautiful her sapphire blue eyes were at that very moment.

“Always Marinette.”

Marinette gently held his hand in hers. Since he was driving she couldn’t distract him. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t kiss him; as she brushed her lips against the knuckles of his free hand.

It didn’t take them long to find parking when they arrived at the studio and neither of them couldn’t help but notice that a certain ‘best friend couple’ were waiting outside for them, staring at them curiously as they sat in the parked car. Alya and Nino didn’t walk over to them though Marinette could see just how much her friend wanted to. But the way Nino held her hand, squeezing it as a reminder, clearly was enough to hold her back.

“Well, here goes nothing” Adrien said. 

“They’re bound to ask why we’ve been pushing them away this past week. Might as well get this done sooner or later. ”

“I agree.” 

Adrien grabbed both of their dance gear from the back seat. “Ready, my Lady?”

“As I’ll ever be chatton.”

Giving her a slight smirk, they got out of the car, Adrien quickly making his way to Marinette’s side so she could slip her hand into his. Looking straight on, they headed towards their friends.

Alya and Nino eyed their clasped hands, the way Marinette leaned in towards Adrien’s side and the way his shoulder nudged against hers. They took in their smiling faces, eyes daring them to utter anything negative.

“So, it looks like you two have things sorted.” Nino stated, cautiously.

“Yup. Things are all better now. It was just a big but silly misunderstanding. Nothing serious.” Adrien replied fairly nonchalantly.

“You’re back to being boyfriend and girlfriend then?” Alya asked, hazel brown eyes wary behind her glasses, as she stared at her best friend. A million other questions burned on her tongue and she was this close to grabbing the girl and pulling her away, demanding for an explanation for her very unreasonable lack of contact.

“Yes. We are. Like Adrien said. A misunderstanding caused us to fight a little bit. But it’s all sorted now. And it’s in the past. Everything better.” Marinette found herself saying. It wasn’t exactly a lie. But it wasn’t the whole truth either. Things were much more complicated than that and there were many things that had yet to be resolved, which included telling Alya the truth about her prior consideration towards dropping out of ESMOD. But that would come later. Adrien and Marinette would take things one step at a time. And the first thing that needed to be done was today’s dance class. Only after their practice, would they sit down with Alya and Nino in a quiet café somewhere and explain what had happened between them … or rather, what had happened excluding a few minor details. 

“And that’s all you’re gonna say. Really?” Alya grumbled, crossing her arms around her chest.

“Easy, babe. I’m sure they’re gonna tell us everything after their dance class. Right?” Nino gave Adrien a disapproving look and Adrien held up a hand in defence.

“I promise. We’ll tell you everything, afterwards.”

“Yeah.” Marinette nodded.

Alya gave a mournful sigh and Nino rolled his eyes but gave the couple a smile.

“I guess that’s better than nothing. Come on. We should head inside. Your class is gonna start soon.”

And all four of them headed towards the studio. 

\----- 

Adrien and Marinette quickly changed into the rest of their dance gear; Adrien once again sporting a very comfortable set of green khaki pants and a black singlet. Even in the unusual coloured casual wear, he still looked beautiful and Marinette couldn’t help think with his golden hair a little more tousled than usual, his strong lithe streamline form and the very catty smirk plastered on his face; his Chat side was showing a little too much.

She quickly followed him into the studio. Adrien chuckled when she came out in a set of black leggings that matched her dark leotard. They certainly hugged her figure well and Adrien wasn’t going to complain about that, especially with a behind like hers. What was not to love about it? But a little voice in his head couldn’t help but wonder, as he gave his girlfriend an even wider grin.

“Shut up.” she grumbled, blushing ever so lovely once again. “You left more bite marks on the inside of my legs than you did my neck.”

“I’m not going to apologise for that.” Adrien mused, taking her hand.

“Down kitty.”

“ _Meow._ Why must you deny me my Lady?”

"Perhaps your fangs are a little sharper than most?"

"Still not apologising for that."

Julio, their dance instructor and the other dance couples, Jaxx and her partner Lance, and Léa and her partner Michél. Michél seemed nice enough; Marinette didn’t know him well enough to dislike him but Léa looked bored and irritated at the idea of dancing together as a group once again, no doubt preferring to practice without the disrupting presence of others. Jaxx gave Marinette a happy smile, waving at her, a wave that she and Adrien returned. Over the weeks of practice there were a couple of times she had had to share a studio with Jaxx and Lance. Though not often, they had gotten on very well. Jaxx’s warm, pleasant and open personality made it very easy for Marinette to talk to her. As for Lance, Adrien had met him at a dance social prior and sparking a conversation over their love of video games had made them good friends throughout their next classes.

Julio was busy talking to Anna and a couple of other dance instructors in the far corner and knowing best not to interrupt them, the four made their way towards Jaxx and Lance. Marinette couldn’t help but smile slightly over the height difference between the two of them. Adrien had always been tall; six-two leaning towards six-three at times. But Lance easily towered over him by several inches. He was close to seven foot. It didn’t help the fact that the handsome tall, bronze-skinned man with his forever messy mop of shoulder length dark hair, practically dwarfed his dance partner since Jaxx was a similar height to her.

“Hey, Mari. I haven’t seen you since you got sick. I hope you’re feeling better.” Jaxx said.

“I feel a lot better. Thanks, Jaxx. It was a viral chest infection hence why I couldn’t be in contact with anyone. Doctor’s orders. But now I’m in the clear.”

“Good. I would have decked you if you gave me your cold.” Alya said under her breath and Nino resisted the urge to pinch her.

“I’m glad to hear.” Jaxx turned her attention towards the third female companion of their little group. “Hi, Alya. That’s a lot of camera equipment; certainly much more advanced than the usual stuff you’ve used. Is Nino gonna help you film?” 

“Initially I was gonna do it on my own but Anna wanted some really good shots and camera angles so he’s gonna be helping me work the big camera.”

Nino smiled, nodding. “Yup. Helped Alya a few times for projects like these. No newbie here.”

“What’s Anna need us to do specifically for this class?” Adrien asked.

Lance gave a shrug. “I don’t exactly know the specifics but you can count on this being another promotional vid for the studio. They want us to show off our technical skills but in a more ‘classroom-like’ atmosphere.”

Marinette couldn’t help but wince. “Promoting, right? So this is where Adrien comes into play I take it.”

Everyone around her looked a little sheepish. Even Adrien couldn’t help but rub the back of his neck with his hand awkwardly; a common trait. 

“It’s good marketing. What can I say? I mean, I can’t blame them honestly.”

“So as long as you aren’t bothered by it.” Marinette said, a little worried.

“Hey. It’s fine. I’m okay. And they’re taking footage of _all_ of us. Not just me. As of right now, I’m not Adrien Agreste-Rousseau. I’m just Adrien; a diligent and loyal student of Latina á Paris.”

Marinette couldn’t help roll her eyes but gave a smile.

“Nino and I are gonna get the camera equipment sorted.”

“Sure thing.” Mari said before turning back to her dance classmates.

“How’s your costume going? I only saw what it looked like in the beginning stages.”

“It’s going well, Jaxx. Just need to make a few minor adjustments to mine. But Adrien’s costume is going along smoothly. His is fairly simple and it won’t take long to finish his so hopefully I’ll get it done by tonight. Have you figured out what you’re wearing?”

Lance gave a chuckle. “Jaxx is stuck between two options and it’s driving me up the wall.”

“They’re both so pretty! Can you blame my indecision?!” she groaned, but gave her partner an elbow. “Hopefully I’ll be able to decide by the end of the week.”

“ _Attention,_ class.” Julio called loudly, and the quiet conversation stopped, everyone turning to the front.

“It’s good to see all of you together again. As you know, the Annual Ball is fast approaching. And from what I’ve seen from your individual practices, all of you are doing incredible.”

Marinette smiled, nodding her thanks. Julio had been a tremendous help the times he had watched her and Adrien practiced. He would often help improve their performance technique or offer suggestions for alternative positions and footwork. Julio’s advice and constant support had been invaluable and Marinette was sure they wouldn’t have made it this far, if it wasn’t for their tutor.

“Now, today we’re going to be doing something a little different; a promotional video that will advertise the Annual Ball, whilst showcasing the dancers and couples who will perform that night. That includes the Advance Couples team, all six of you. Of course you won’t showcase your choreography until the night of the ball. Instead, Latina á Paris would like to showcase and advertise our dancers a little differently.”

Marinette felt her eyes widen and she looked at Adrien. He could only shrug. He honestly had no clue what was going on either.

“As our advanced performers, we expect more from you. We want more than an incredible dance. We want more than incredible technicality. We want to see more than your skill in making a very difficult choreography come to life. We want to see emotion; pure raw emotion. We want to see a story unfold through your performance. And today’s dance session, Alya here is going to film that emotion; the intimate connection you have with your dance partners, as you perform this sensual Latin style.”

_Oh, shit._

_\-----_

Marientte paced back and forth with sweaty palms and anxiety being shoved down her throat by the gulp and all she wanted to do was be sick. 

“Oh god! This is going to be so embarrassing! I’ll never hear the end of it, with Alya.” Marinette face palmed. Everyone had yet to start dancing, Julio was still talking to Alya on the different camera angles he wanted, and the content that had to be shot for the promotional video.

“It’s only embarrassing for you.” Adrien muttered, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “I’ve got embarrassing and _‘this-is-going-to-be-hell’_. I guess this means more particle physics equations for me.”

“I hope this isn’t going to be a problem.”

Adrien chuckled, evergreen eyes still a little bashful. “We’ve made it through other dance practices with Alya filming us. I’m sure we can do this one.”

“Yeah, but …”

“But?”

“I mean … after what happened last night … um …”

Adrien gave a groan. “Mari. That isn’t going to help me.”

“Sorry.”

“Guys, we have to head back on to the floor. Julio wants to start filming.” Jaxx called them.

“You ready?” Adrien asked.

“Um, not really. But like you’ve said. We’ve made it through other dance practices. We can get through this one.”

The three of them made their way to the floor, Jaxx flitting over to her partner. Alya held her cam-corder, ready to record whilst Nino was manning a much larger and very impressive camera on a stand. Alya gave her a thumbs up and Marinette could only give her a heartfelt smile in return. Honestly, the nerves and the awkward embarrassment towards the situation of public body grinding, wasn’t sitting very well with her.

“All right dancers. I want emotion. I want to see intimacy. I want to see you emotionally and physically connect with your dancer partners. You are no longer just dancing together. As of now until the end of filming, you are more. You ware partners in everything. And you have to physically express that.”

“So, pretty much boyfriend-ing and girlfriend-ing? Or are we going along the lines of ‘fuck-me-right-now-on-the-dance-floor?” Alya asked, more to Nino than anyone else. But everyone could still hear her.

“ _Alya!”_ Marinette screeched, going bright scarlet. Adrien also flushed, standing awkwardly next to his girlfriend. Julio chuckled. Jaxx’s cheeks coloured soft pink as she looked at her feet in embarrassed. Lance rolled his eyes but barked a laugh as he did. And Léa and Michel merely looked bored.

“Great one, Alya. Now everyone knows just how crude you are.” Nino groaned, smacking a hand to his forehead.

“Well, perhaps not as blunt as you put it, Madmoiselle. But yes. This is the intimacy I want. I want you to physically express the raw sensuality and intimacy and the connection you have with one another, through your dancing. I don’t want to see how well you can dance. We all know you are professionals, here. Now comes truly capturing that emotion. And it’s this we plan on showcasing to the public. Can you do that for me, today?”

“ _Yes, sir._ ” Everyone said in unison.

“Excellent. I shall choose the music. Dancers, ready yourselves. Remember. _Intimacy._ Léa, Michel. You’re up first. Jaxx, Lance, Adrien and Marinette; please wait outside until I call you to dance. After that we’ll have a shot of all six of you dancing. Marinette, Adrien; you’ll be up next so please be ready on standby.” Julio said before making his way to the music speakers.

“Will do Julio. Mari and I just need to fill up our water bottles first. _Right?_ ” 

“Huh? Oh … yeah. We’ll only take a moment.” Marinette said, quickly catching on and barely finishing her sentence before Adrien took her hand an pulled her towards the door.

“Adrien!” Marinette whispered frantically as they made their way outside. “W-what do we do? I don’t … this is so _weird._ ”

“Hey.” Adrien assured her, as well as himself. “We can do this. Just remember the other times we danced together.”

“But that was just practicing. That’s different.”

“What about those ‘other’ times when we danced? That was different. At least for me.” Adrien said quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“What about the time I danced at the shoot I had to do? Do you remember how you felt? Or the time we danced together when we found out each other’s identities? _That_ was different, Mari. What we felt; what we did; it was different.”

Sapphires eyes softened, turning shy at the sweet and warm memories. Adrien was right.

“Yes. I … I remember. I guess it was.”

“What did it feel like when I started dancing with you at the shoot?”he asked her hesitantly.

“I … where to start?” Marinette wasn’t sure how to say it. But she remembered both days so clearly. She treasured those memories.

“Wherever you want? There really hasn’t really been a beginning or a starting point, when it comes to us being together.”

“Not since we were fifteen.”

Adrien gave her a warm smile, gently gripping her hand. 

“Well. The shoot happened the day after our first date; when we wanted to be boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“That wonderful dinner; that beautiful dress you wore, when I came to pick up.”

“The really annoying waitress, and that accidental kiss you gave me.”

“The kiss in the park.”

Marinette gave him a bashful smile. He gave her a dopey grin. “You just had to remember that, my silly kitty.”

“And forever yours, my Princess.”

“I was scared. I was worried I would ruin your shoot since I didn’t know how to model. But then you danced with me. You simply put some music on and danced with me. You didn’t care what others thought. You only cared about me and how I felt. Sometimes it was like I was the only one in the room; there was only me.”

_There is only you._ Adrien thought to himself.

“Dancing with you then, I just forgot everyone else. You’ve always made me feel safe and very beautiful whenever we danced together. Even before we were dating, I could have danced with dozens of other people, but I would only feel comfortable in your arms. I knew it was safe to … to feel how I felt when ever I danced with you; what _you_ made me feel.”

Marinette found herself blushing from the truth. It was finally out in the open and she couldn’t take those words back, even if she wanted to. But she remembered Adrien’s promise; he would always be honest with her and thus, give her everything and more. His promised seemed so much more; so _big_ but at the same time, strangely normal and ordinary, when it came to him. And she couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about revealing all of this. What she felt was very personal to her. She never imagined herself to be in a position where she would one day openly and willingly offer the information to someone; let alone to the man she loved and cared for with all of her heart. But Adrien had never laughed or criticised how she felt. Never had he claimed her feelings to be a bad thing, thus there was nothing to be scared about. She could always be honest with him; she knew that. But still the feeling was strange. She was safe. But nervous; not out of discomfort for her situation. Just a little silly and awkward. 

“Hey,” he said, voice low and hushed, giving her hand a squeeze. “It’s okay. Go on.”

He was so very close to her, face mere inches away from her own that their foreheads were touching. He spoke quietly to her. No one else needed to hear. This was something that could only be shared between just the two of them. No one else needed to know the truth about how they felt.

“That day, knowing that we … we were finally a couple, I mean after years of having this huge crush on you since I was fifteen then finally realising in that moment that it was all so real, that I was your _girlfriend,_ that I was the one you wanted! I thought the revelation was going to be much more euphoric; a fanfare. Embarrassing, right?”

“And it wasn’t?” he chuckled.

Marinette shook her head. “No. Just safe. Simple. Right. It felt _right._ That’s the best I can describe it. I want to say more but …”

Adrien gave a smile, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. The gesture was so cute; so Adrien, so _Chat-like_ _._

“Yeah. I understand.”

_“_ But it was more than that.”

“How so?”

“I’ve been dancing with my partner; I’ve been in love with my best friend since I was fifteen. That … that realisation isn’t something I’m really _ever_ going to get used to. I’ve keep pinching myself; frightened this is all just a really wonderful dream.”

“If it is then I can assure you, you’re not the only one that doesn’t want to wake up.”

“A dream. A really good dream that feeling this happy; this sense of fulfilment shouldn’t be real.”

“ _You’re_ real, Mari. You’ve always been within my reach.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow, giving a slight smile.

“Oh? Says the man whose always been infatuated with a certain Ladybug and kept lamenting how he could never hope to have her.”

“What can I say? Guess I got lucky in the end.”

“As for me, I was dancing with the man I could easily fall in love over and over again and no matter the hardship, because I knew we’d get though it together. I mean we’ve already been through so much together as Chat and Ladybug! And under all the intimacy and the sensuality, I was dancing with one one person I could trust, share and spend the rest of my life with and-”

“Wait! Sh-share … _spend_ the rest your life with?” Adrien gasped, recalling as evergreen eyes widened with shock.

Sapphire eyes went a bright bluebell, as Marinette finally realised her mistake.

“ _Shit._ ” Marinette buried her face in her hands, absolutely mortified. So much for wanting to be honest and open about her feelings. She had only proceeded to unintentionally slip that little extra detail she had been planning on keeping secret for a little while longer; or until the moment was right. Marinette couldn’t tell the truth; she didn’t know how! She was exceptionally good at lying. She was Ladybug for crying out loud. But when she was honest, Marinette was nothing short of an awkward blabbermouth. 

“Do … do you really think that? Do you want that?”

“It’s been a dream of mine since I was fifteen; that we’d get married, have children, start a life together and …”

_Crap! Shit, shit, fuck, damn, and all the other swear words that I can think of!!!_

Soft lips gently brushed against her forehead.

And he whispered against her ear. “That’s not a dream, Mari. That’s a _promise_.”

Marinette went quiet. Evergreen eyes were bright; intense. They were full of longing. They were warm. And Marinette’s heart was so full that it ached once again. She gave a shy and hesitant smile.

“We’ll talk about this a little more later. Definitely, but we should get back to the studio and wait our turn with Jaxx and Lance.”

She nodded.

“Yeah.”

She held out out a fist for him to bump; the gesture was so familiar yet as civilians it seemed incredibly out of place and

it made the both of them laugh.

“Ready to kick some ass? Or should I say, body roll and shake some ass?”

“More than ready, minou. We’ve got this.”

And he gave her a dazzling smile.

“Then let’s do this thing!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay - filler chapter guys. I get bored with writing these types. But the plot will come back soon!


	46. Story Of My Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This fanfiction is now rated Mature, thus is suitable for 'mature' audiences.

From the door, four dance students watched in silence, as the first couple was filmed in the studio. Alya and Nino were busy filming, serious and incredibly focused as they worked. Occasionally a quiet comment was made here are there about Léa’s flawless technique and exceptional presence on the dance floor. Marinette remained silent, however. She couldn’t find the words to say anything for they were all stuck in her throat. 

Firstly, she was struggling to maintain the sudden anxiety attack that threatened to explode any second now from having to body grind with her boyfriend in front of a camera, whilst knowing that very footage would soon be shown for the entire world to see. She wanted to kick herself, struggling to rationalise the fact what they were about to do was practically no different to the shoot that she did with Adrien that last time. She had managed to persevere through the mortification, embarrassment, awkward reality of doing something that was borderline carnal as cameras snapped and audiences looked on. More over, she had managed to keep the sudden and back then, the shameful longing for Adrien and herself to explore such intimate actions. Then again, that shoot had also provided them the first stepping stone to the beginning of a more physical relationship, later that afternoon, on her bedroom floor. Photographs were published; there was evidence. She had the _proof_ that something like this, should have been fine to her. She should have been comfortable by now or at the very least more professional since she knew what to expect. It wasn’t the first time Marinette had been put in such a strange and mere-wracking situation. Yet her discomfort refused to dissipate; her heart was still beating far too fast in her chest and her hands felt clammy. More than that, her feet felt clumsy; like a dead weight. Wonderful! Just what she needed when she was about to dance in front of her tutor and some very intimidating-looking camera equipment. 

But it was more than just awkward embarrassment and uncomfortable nerves of publicly displaying a highly sensual, if somewhat artistic, form of affection.

As butterflies fluttered sickly in her stomach, Marinette could only watch wide-eyed at Léa and Michel, mouth open as she watched them. They were truly professional dancers. Michel was strong and he was confident and authoritative. Léa followed, held and commanded herself on the dance floor, in a way that no one would be able to tear the gaze away. The improvisation was fluid, clean and absolutely breathtaking, as it was sensual and provocative with every body roll or trail of a hand down her thigh. And she felt her stomach drop. They were good; _too_ good! Léa and Michel had been dancing for years! They were international champions for goodness sakes and certainly well recognised. Marinette had done her research after all and these two were certainly decorated in the awards, titles and recognitions department. Marinette on the other hand had barely scratched the surface. If she was considered ‘advanced’, these two were out of her league by a considerable stretch! Marinette was nothing but an awkward duck, compared to Léa! How would she able to dance let alone come up with something that could even compare to the level of professionalism and grace they radiated?!

“Hey. You alright? You’ve gone quiet.” Adrien said softly. He moved Marinette to the side a little so Jaxx and Lance were out of hearing range, his fingers reaching up to brush the side of her cheek. He gently tilted her face so he could look into her eyes. They looked scared.

“They’re good … _really_ good.” she muttered.

“Can’t argue. They’re going to give the studio a lot of coverage.” he answered with a somewhat sheepish shrug.

Marinette gulped. “How are we going to compete with that?”

“Compete? What are your talking about?” 

“I - how will I be able to come up with something like that? I mean they look so good together; professional and everything! Every movement; even the way she walks! Léa is amazing.”

“Well maybe you’re right when it comes to the technical side of it. But she’s not completely perfect.”

“Adrien. Look at them. They’re incredible.” Marientte breathed anxiously. 

“Hey. Look at me.” Adrien urged his Princess to look into his eyes.

“We’re okay. You’ll be amazing. And she’s not as brilliant a dancer you claim her to be.”

“Are you even watching them?!” Marinette said incredulously.

Adrien gave a slight chuckle. “I am. Don’t focus on their body movements. Focus on Léa and Michel’s faces. Focus on their expressions.’

Marinette did as she was told, peering through the glass panelling of the door-window.

“They both look serious and look incredibly focused.” she noted, watching the hard yet surprisingly calm lines of both their features as they danced; Léa’s eyes locked with Michel’s whenever they came close. 

“And what else.”

Not quite understanding what Adrien was getting at, she shrugged. “What else am I supposed to see? They look dedicated, truly invested in the dance and doing their best and getting every movement right. They’re practically perfection. Even if a bit solemn, they’re certainly absorbed with doing everything right. That’s admirable as well as amazing.”

“They’re _too_ focused, Mari. Both of them may be exceptionally dancers and they’re incredibly focused; their technique incredibly. But it’s as you said. They’re too serious; to concerned about being perfect rather than simply feeling the music and working off each other’s movements and emotions.”

“Huh?”

“Mari, they may look wonderful together. But Julio isn’t looking for ‘perfection’ through how professional and technically advanced you are on the dance floor. He says he wants intimacy, feeling, partners moving and working off each other’s emotions. And from here, no offence but I’ve never seen a more sedate and expressionless couple.”

Marinette frowned a little. 

And Adrien laughed a little more. “Look closer at their faces. They’re more than a little stoic.”

The more Marinette studied Léa and her partner, the more she realised Adrien did have a point. As amazing, as their impromptu sensual dance improvisation was, in front of the live camera feed, Adrien was right. Léa and Michel were incredibly focused with each other or rather, each other’s dancing that their professionalism and efforts to make the perfect performance got in the way of the biggest component of Bachata dancing. Although they connected as dance partners; on an emotional level, Marinette didn’t feel anything between the two of them. There was nothing but false intimacy. There was no raw desire, no yearning to be close to the one you danced with, no need to feel beautiful … to feel and be _intimate_ on a much more personal level. It was meant to be a beautiful and sensual moment shared between two people. Despite the layers of skill and flawless excellence Marinette just couldn’t feel the very reason why she loved Bachata dancing with her own partner.

“I - I think I see it.” Marinette realised slowly

“There.You see. Léa dances to look amazing; she wants to showcase her talent rather than focus on the emotional baggage that comes with it. And there’s one thing that we can bring to the dance floor, that Léa and Michel can’t.” Adrien said.

Hesitant, she finally found the courage to speak. “And wh-what’s that?” 

“I want to dance with you.”

“W-what?” Marientte gasped.

Adrien’s voice was low, almost husky as he spoke.“Marinette. I _want_ to dance with you.”

The sentence was simple enough. But Marinette felt her heartbeat quicken. The hand that was cupping her cheek gently, lightly stroked downwards, cupping the side of her face; the touch tender. Sapphire eyes darkening shyly when evergreen eyes smouldered intently as they gazed longingly into her own. And she couldn’t look away. It wasn’t a simple thing of wanting to dance with her because he liked to dance with her; that she was a good partner to dance with. After last night, Marinette knew that ‘ _wanting’_ was so much more. He wanted to make her feel beautiful and incredibly whenever she was in his arms. He wanted to help her feel safe; that it was okay to stir and feel excited; to want something a little more dangerous and far more intimate if just for a moment. And he wanted to be trusted, to feel that she could depend on him entirely. And after discovering who they truly were underneath their masks and disguises, this was so much more than a simple dance. It was a memory; treasured and perfect. It was a memory of surprise, disbelief, awe and most of all forgiveness. It was the desire to be themselves; their true selves and the only way to do that, was to let each other be free, to feel safe, and to be loved and cared for in each other’s dance, under there soft steady and gentle guidance of a dance beat. This _‘want’_ that they both felt was much more than that. It was a longing; a need that both had come to crave, not just as partners or as friends but as lovers finally allowing each other to reveal just how much they adored one another when words were insufficient. And that was something that only they shared. No one else had to know they felt.

“Me too. I want to dance with you too.” she said shyly.

Adrien’s eyes were heated as he pressed a soft kiss to her face, lips barely brushing the corner of her mouth. Although he couldn’t kiss her directly with Jaxx and Lance nearby, it was more than enough. He could feel her tremble softly.

“I can hear the music ending. It’s going to be our turn soon.” Adrien whispered, breath warm against her soft skin.

Marinette gave a faint nod, the most beautiful blush dusting her freckled face. She was thankful that was the only thing that physically expressed the shy warmth she felt. Marinette wasn’t sure how she would have been able to explain for the sudden heat that had begun to stir in her heart, reaching low and sinking into her lower abdomen.

_Dammit! Damn everything and Adrien’s everything to make me feel like this!_ She was going to dance something incredibly heated already! She didn’t need a sudden bout of arousal on top of that! She was thankful Lance and Jaxx were standing a fair bit a way from them and Adrien’s body was somewhat hiding how she looked right about now. She would never have been able to live through the mortification.

“ _Princess._ Please stop looking like that!” he murmured, when he pulled away. She refused to look at him in the eye. She didn’t want her heart to give out. Adrien’s very toned chest was not the ideal distraction considering her current state but it was better than staring into his hypnotic eyes and bewitching face. 

“Stop what?” she mumbled.

“Looking like _that!_ You’re gonna make things hard for me in more ways than one. There are only so many mathematics and physics equations I can repeat on stereo, in my head.”

Marinette blushed an even brighter pink; heat ravelling fast and fast to the pit of her stomach.

“ _Marinette! Please!_ ” 

_God!_ Why did he have to sound so _hungry_ for her?!

“Blame my parents for this face! I can’t help it-” shebegan but the sound of the studio door opening interrupted her mid-conversation.

“Hey you two. It’s your turn to dan- … what’s with the faces?” Nino asked, peering from behind the door. He gave his friends and odd look, taking in their heated bushes, the sudden awkward tension that hung thick and heavy as well as just how close the two of them were standing.

“You know what. I don’t wanna know! You guys settle your shit afterwards and keep my out of it. But you guys need to get in here. Léa and Michel are already sitting down at the side. You’re up.” Nino sighed wiht a roll of his eyes.

“Ready?” Adrien finally asked her, watching his best friend head back into the studio.

“I hope so. As you said - we have this. Just … physics equations, chatton.”

_Yeah,_ Adrien thought to himself, unable to stop himself from gulping. _Physics equations._

 

\-----

 

Marinette tapped her foot on the heeled foot on the wooden dance floor, trying to ignore the very large camera that Nino was manning. Julio was readying their music, as he gestured to Nino to be ready on standby. Léa and Michel were sitting to the side at least looking a little more invested in what was going on. The black lens was staring directly at her and it was more than a little intimidating. 

Alya gave her an encouraging smile, hitting record on her small camera.

_You got this, babe!_ she mouthed.

In her peripheral vision she could see Jaxx and Lance giving her a thumbs up, silently wishing her good luck. 

Their support and encouragement did nothing to settle the knot in her stomach.

_Come on, Marinette! You’ve done this before; in front of an audience larger than this one and that dance was photographed!_ she desperately tried to reason with herself. _You can do this!_

A soft soothing pressure, circled against the back of her hand and she looked down in surprise. Her rapid heartbeat slowly began to calm when she realised Adrien’s was trying to help her to breathe, his touch gentle and assuring.

Evergreen eyes caught her own and he smiled gently.

“Remember; I’ve got you. We’ve nothing to worry about. Let me lead you.” he murmured.

“Yeah.” Marinette breathed slowly. Though the knot in her stomach didn’t loosen, at least she was thinking a little clearer. And with Adrien she could do anything. They were more than just boyfriend and girlfriend. They were partners in everything. 

“Ignore everyone else, just like last time.”

“ _Ignore._ ”

_“_ Just like the photoshoot … just like the day we first danced together.”

His voice was no more than a whisper; his hands gripping her own tightly.

“Yeah.”

“It’s just you and me, Mari. No one else.”

“I like the sound of that a lot.” she confessed softly, a beautiful blush staining her cheeks.

Adrien gave her a warm smile, pressing a light kiss to her hands; the touch comforting before he turned to Julio.

“We’re ready.”

“Excellent! Remember; _emotion, connection … intimacy!_ And action!”

Nino hit record. Alya began to vlog for the studio. Julio pressed play. And the soft steady music reverberated from the speakers.

Marinette found her eyes widening in surprise. Unconsciously, she found herself turning away from Adrien, looking up towards the loud speakers. The intro was incredibly familiar. Although a soft and very simple melody made by a piano, she knew this song. How could she not? Alya’s sisters kept singing it all the time. But she had never heard of this cover before. It must have been a remix of some sort but she had never expected the possibility of such a popular song to be adapted into something far more sensual; far more comforting.

Very slowly the steady yet rhythmic bongos accompanied the lilting piano music, and a gentle voice began to croon the lyrics.

 

“ _Written in these walls are the stories that I can't explain”_

 

Sapphire eyes widened. And her heart began to still and warm. This cover was beautiful. She had been caught so unaware by the unusual choice of music that she had quite forgotten where she was standing, let alone what she was supposed to be doing. She was completely enraptured in the lovely music.

 

_“I leave my heart open but it stays right here empty for days”_

 

Adrien found himself smiling in awe at her. In the corner of his eyes he could see Alya and Nino looking at her in confusion, no doubt wondering what she was doing. But he couldn’t have cared less about his audience. Her lovely face full of astonishment, lapis lazuli eyes wide, thick raven hair and creamy skin glowing softly under the spotlights and her slender, beautiful and tantalising form, which secretly concealed that she had been claimed by him in the early hours of the morning. Everything about her; his Lady; his Princess … _his_ Marinette. She was perfection. She was his. And he was hers. And right now this was the perfect moment to show her just how he always felt whenever they were together; as best friends, lovers and partners. 

 

_“She told me in the morning”_

_“She don't feel the same about us in her bones”_

 

So he walked over, coming up behind her and never interrupting her from her reverie. Some would have simply tapped her shoulder to get her attention. But this was Marinette; she was no ordinary woman and she deserved every piece of affection he could give her. Besides, Julio said he wanted to see that connection; the pure and raw desire, emotion and the closeness between partners in all things. It was a win win situation.

 

“ _It seems to me that when I die_

_These words will be written on my stone”_

 

Reaching out with his right hand, Adrien gently brushed her hair away from her neck, pushing it to the side whilst he lightly traced the delicate rise of Marinette’s hipbone with his left. He could hear her breath hitch, a soft shiver racing down her spine. Although most of the smooth surface of Marinette’s glorious throat was covered by her sleeveless turtleneck, he could still feel her warm pulse quicken from his touch, as he lowered his head. He placed a soft kiss to the back of her neck, inhaling her sweet smell, bringing her close into his arms. 

It was instinct; more than second nature to move back and press herself against Adrien’s strong frame, her back and lower half blushed tight against his chest, lower half and the back of her thighs pressed into his pelvis. Adrien’s arms were her home; it was where she truly belonged.

 

“ _And I'll be gone, gone tonight”_

_“The ground beneath my feet is open wide”_

_“The way that I've been holdin' on too tight”_

_“With nothing in between”_

 

Adrien kissed more than the soft expanse of her neck, lightly brushing her shoulders and down the length of her right arm before making the trail back up again. She smelt so sweet, as he inhaled her scent. Moving carefully, he guided her body into a body roll from behind, her lower half rocking against his. 

Just as the music slowed, stalling and suspending before introducing the chorus, Adrien waited, the moment silent. Marinette’s breath had hitched. And he quickly spun her around, bringing her tight into his arms, faces a mere inch apart. Lapis lazuli eyes were blown wide as they stared right into smouldering evergreen. 

 

_“The story of my life, I take her home”_

_“I drive all night to keep her warm and time …”_

_“… Is frozen”_

 

There was no need for technicality. There was no need to show just how good they were at dancing. It didn’t matter about their skill or level of professionalism. They were advanced members. It was already known. All that mattered to Adrien was showing the girl in his arms just how much he adored her; that she was his entire world, his everything and more.

Marinette wrapped her arms around Adrien’s shoulders, one of her hands stroking the soft golden hair at the nape of his neck. And she gave him a shy smile when he moved even closer into her space, a hand pressed in between her shoulder blades whilst the other rose to cradle and guide her head into a roll backwards, his hands lightly traveling with her movement, as his fingertips traced her skin. Thick raven hair billowed with every movement. Legs met, thighs interlocked as they began to sway and rock in tine with the music.

_“Beautiful.”_ he murmured against her lips. He was rewarded with the most beautiful blush and another radiant smile.

 

_“The story of my life, I give her hope”_

_“I spend her love until she's broke, inside …”_

_“… The story of my life”_

 

Dancing with him had never felt so easy. She couldn’t understand why she had been so nervous earlier. It just felt right being in his arms, with his forehead pressed against hers. As Adrien side-stepped, his feet quickly creating a complex shine, she easily followed him, mirroring his movements, before she found herself spinning quickly on the balls of her feet. She didn’t need his cues; her body simply moved on its own. She simply knew how he danced. They were so in sync that there was no need to think or focus on their technique or styling. Instead, Marinette lost herself in beautiful evergreen eyes that fixed her with a tender gaze.

 

_“Written on these walls are the colors that I can't change”_

_“Leave my heart open but it stays right here in its cage”_

_“I know that in the morning now I see us in the light upon a hill”_

_“Although I am broken, my heart is untamed, still”_

 

Marinette was gently pushed back and she arched into a backbend, trembling when she felt his hand wander down the length of her body. When she felt his fingertips travel in between the valley of her breasts, her breathing hitched and faltered. She had completely forgotten where she was. What they were doing war far too close, far too intimate! She knew they had do; Julio asked them to be this way to promote the Annual Ball for crying out loud. But this! She knew she had to get used to dancing in front of others; she had a performance to do. But what she felt was too much, especially now. This was something that should have been kept secret, just between them. It was something that they shared and nobody else needed to know. But all she could see and feel was him, guiding her back up to him, as he loved and cherished her in another perfect dance.

 

_“And I'll be gone, gone tonight”_

_“The fire beneath my feet is burning bright”_

_“The way that I been holding on so tight”_

_“With nothing in between”_

 

Now it was Marinette’s turn. She pulled away gently; an unfamiliar gesture considering she was always the one that was being led. She watched Adrien’s face colour with surprise when she returned into his arms, once again her back flushed against his chest. Very slowly, she guided his large warm hands to towards her waist, as she cuddled closer to him. Adrien easily followed; understanding what she wanted; what she _needed._ Adrien was more than happy to give it to her what she secretly craved; nuzzling her sweet smelling hair. 

 

_“The story of my life, I take her home”_

_“I drive all night to keep her warm and time …”_

_“… Is frozen”_

_“The story of my life, I give her hope”_

_“I spend her love until she's broke, inside …”_

_“… The story of my life”_

 

Marinette felt so perfect; so slight and slender as he guided her hips, his palms and fingertips cradling the smooth slender expanse of her waist and the delicate rise of her hipbone. Back and forth he moved with her, their lower halves rocking and rolling, before guiding her into a body roll against him. And Marinette felt more than safe nestled against him like this, for a few perfect moments, before he slowly spun her back around to face him. 

 

_“And I been waiting for this time to come around”_

_“But baby running after you is like chasing the clouds”_

 

His voice was warm, soft, tender, as he crooned the very same lyrics; dedicating the beautiful and heart-warming melody to her. And Marinette’s heart ached. She wanted to cry. So he nuzzled his nose against hers, eyes staring intently at her, waiting for her consent. She loved that about Adrien. No matter the situation, her comfort and her needs were always first. So she nodded, lowering her head to press a soft kiss against his neck to tell him that she was okay; that _they_ were okay. She could feel his warm skin and the rapid pulse beneath quicken from her touch. So he hitched her thigh upwards, bringing her leg up to wrap around his hips. She could only hold on tight to him, feeling the ground leave her feet and suddenly they were spinning. He never let her go; she weighed close to nothing, before gently placing her back on the ground, their bodies moving; hearts falling deeper and deeper in love once more.

 

_“The story of my life, I take her home”_

_“I drive all night to keep her warm and time …”_

_“… Is frozen”_

_“The story of my life, I give her hope”_

_“I spend her love until she's broke, inside …”_

_“… The story of my life”_

 

Marinette could only close her eyes when Adrien’s lips captured her own in a deep and heated kiss. With a pleased sigh she eagerly met that kiss, pulling herself closer, cradling his head. Adrien’s strong arms wrapped tightly around her waist, never wanting to let her go. After what had transpired; the longing he felt for her that threatened to burst there and then, how could he not? Everything had felt so perfect; so right. He had made her feel beautiful; sexy; and most of all, loved. As Chat, he had always professed his love to her, since she had been fifteen. She had just been too blind and perhaps too scared to let him in, to truly understand such an ardent and spell binding promise to accept him. He had be confessing his love for her for so long. But sometimes words were not enough. Words were complicated. Words that spoken, words hidden from each other; so many words that words would just confuse her; frighten her. Sometimes they only made things worse. Actions spoke louder than words; she knew that. That dance, so tender and so provocative, both of them expressing their heated desire and their longing to always be in each others arms … it was more than enough for them.

Breathless and panting for oxygen when they finally pulled apart, they still held each other close, Marinette’s hands were still around Adrien’s neck and tangling in his golden locks, whilst his own were wrapped tightly around her petite form. Hearts that beat rapidly were so full of each other’s love that both ached. But Adrien couldn't let her go. He didn’t want to. And Marinette knew there was no other place in this world where she would feel so warm and so safe to be herself; in Adrien’s arms, his lips gently moving against her own. This was where she belonged. 

Then an awkward sound of a cough echoed in the room. 

Both of them pulled back startled. Adrien suddenly went a vivid scarlet. Marinette looked like a blushing freckled reindeer caught in headlights. The camera was still recording. Julio simply gave them an expectant and all-knowing smile. Nino looked smug. Alya looked like a cat that had just gotten the cream. And from the way Jaxx and Lance had pressed themselves against the studio door window, their faces absolutely gobsmacked, the rest of their audience were more than just a little shell-shocked by their exceptionally armorous performance.

There was no use hiding it now. And Marinette could only groan, swearing under her breath, as she buried her face into Adrien’s chest, wanting nothing more than for the ground to swallow her.

Adrien could only give an awkward chuckle as he brought Marinette close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sorry for the long wait guys but work's been so busy! And I'm always too exhausted to write! But here's a new chapter. I'm gonna be taking a break from writing 'dance sequence' chapters, until I get to the final main dances. They just take so long to write and I'm running out of descriptive stuff. I feel like I'm getting a bit repetitive, which isn't good. So next chapters will be focused on getting the story back on track!
> 
> Here's the link to the song that Adrien and Marinette were dancing to: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6QdbSG_vwtw


	47. Girl Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This fanfiction is now rated Mature, thus is suitable for 'mature' audiences.

Marinette found herself sitting in the living room with dozens of sewing utensils, fabric glue, coloured fabric and swatches, tassels and so many sequins that they were getting all over the place; sticking haphazardly to her skin. Adrien was with her, as was Nino and Alya. And Kim. And Max. And their other dance classmates Lance and Jaxx.

_So much for a somewhat ‘private’ heart to heart with Alya and Nino._

Adrien had fixed her with an apologetic look but he had gently reminded her that all of them had somewhat been affected by their little ‘misunderstanding’ and semi-breakup in the previous weeks. So in a way having to talk to all of them all at once made sense.

So in the end, all eight friends trouped off to the small but lovely apartment of the Dupain-Cheng’s. To be honest, Marinette wanted the time to work more on her costume, let alone finish the final details on Adrien’s. She was more than just behind. It was then she learned Jaxx had a natural talent with her hands; as an artist she could create and sew just about anything and was more than eager to help. 

As Jaxx helped sew the pink trimming and fixed the buttons, leaving the embroidery and appliqué for her friend to do, Marinette was busy assembling the fabric together, Alya handing her pins, threads and her hands whenever she needed them. It left the boys to their own devices so they opted to play Mega Strike 3, whilst they waited for the girls to get the majority of the costumes done. Despite Alya’s impertinence and impatience to get down to the nitty-gritty, demanding Marinette to explain absolutely everything to her, she kept her mouth shut. Marinette’s costume was more important.

“So does it fit?” Alya asked her from outside the bathroom.

“Like a glove.” Marinette responded.

“Well lets see it!”

Marinette groaned. There were still very evident bite marks and love-bruises across her neck and shoulders. She had no idea how to hide them and with both Alya and Jaxx going to find out sooner or later, there wasn’t any point hiding them.

“When I come out … try not to react too much. Just film me from the abdomen down.”

“Sure I can do that. But why?”

“I need to explain the changes too, and what I plan to do with it next, but I can do that in a voice over.”

“No … why do you need me to film from just your … _oh._ ” Her best friend stopped abruptly, when Mari finally came out the bathroom.

Jaxx stared at Marinette with wide eyes.

“Yeah …”

“Damn. Adrien went for the kill with you. Half of your neck is purple.” Alya mused.

“Just … you can hear the details later. Just film the essentials and avoid my neck.”

“I’m holding you on to that.”

“In any case, the main aspect of the costumes are finished. Now you just need to do the detailing. But it’s a lovely design, Marinette.” Jaxx complimented, trying to diffuse the situation away from the inappropriate, as Alya did a quick film of her friend twirling, showcasing the newest modifications.

“Thanks for your help guys. I wasn’t expecting to finish this much today.”

“Shall we get Adrien to try on the almost finished piece? The pants, shirt and the pink lining are all done. So are the buttons, you wanted.”

“Yes please.” Marinette nodded, quickly stripping out of her costume and stepping back into her clothes before they made their way back up the stairs.

“Adrien? Would you be able to try this on? I need to see if it fits and record it as part of my research.” 

The boys paused their game and Adrien got up from the sofa, giving her a tender smile. 

“I’ll be out in a minute.” He smiled, giving her a quick kiss on her forehead, causing Marinette to blush.

“Yup. Things are definitely better between the two of you.” Alya muttered under her breath. 

“Alya. Don’t start. I’ll tell you everything soon. Now help me clean up this mess.”

Thankfully, the boys helped and it took them less than a few minutes to get everything sorted and neatly piled onto of the kitchen counter. By the time they were finished, Adrien stepped back up into the stairs and into the living room, completely dressed in his new costume.

“Wow!!! Adrien, that looks amazing on you!” Jaxx exclaimed, clapping her hands together in delight.

“Hold on; camera! Do a little spin for me, Adrien!” Alya gave a tight grin and Adrien couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he did so. Lance could only chuckle at the spectacled girl’s eagerness. 

“Yeah, dude. That looks sick. The fact that it’s all black is really cool.” Nino added.

“Yeah - the colouring suits you, and even with the pink it still looks good. You’re really talented Marinette.” Kim agreed, gesturing to Max, who peered inquisitively behind his glasses.

“I agree too. I look forward to seeing all the detailing.” Max smiled.

Marinette on the other hand was at a loss for words. Adrien looked … he was absolutely _breathtaking._

The costume was simple. But seeing Adrien dressed smartly in black, the fabric cut to accentuate his tall, lithe and streamline form, he was stunning. 

“You know what. It would be really cool, if Adrien wore a mask; just a small one, really simple.” Kim said. “I mean, the whole outfit reminds me of one of those ‘Legend of Zoro' films.”

Marinette blushed a little. In this get up, Adrien looked a little too close to a certain feline that had completely captured her heart, and she wasn’t sure if she could take that. And after what had happened last night. Adrien caught the shy embarrassment in her face and he couldn’t help but smirk.

“I’ll need to make a matching one for my costume.”

“No, no - just Adrien. He wears the mask and you go without. It would certainly make him a lot more mysterious and debonair, don’t you think. Adrien would be this mysterious, dark and handsome stranger that sweeps you off your feet.” Jaxx protested.

Alya smirked. “Sounds like some depraved sexual fantasy.”

“Alya … _really?_ ” Nino groaned.

“Someone had to say it. It might as well be your girlfriend.” Lance shrugged. “Even Jaxx is thinking it.”

That earned a hard glare from the petite girl who blushed bright red. Kim and Max only laughed at her expression.

“Oh you know what I mean. And it wouldn’t de depraved. It would be really romantic. Almost like 'Phantom of the Opera'. Really sexy but refined, mysterious and elegant. And it would really make the dance a whole lot more intimate. What do you think Marinette?”

Marinette was at a loss for words. She could only blush harder.

“Just look at her face. She’s loving this.”

“You know if that were to happen, the whole mask … he’d kinda remind me of Chat Noir.” Max said thoughtfully. 

Marinette gave a squeak. It was loud. And everyone laughed. Even Adrien. Marinette fixed her boyfriend with a hard glare. Adrien’s dazzling evergreen eyes were full of mischief and joy, his face a little too smug and ‘catty’ for her liking. Her favourite feline was quickly becoming her ‘not so favourite’, and Marinette was struggling to hold herself back from wiping the very big smirk off his face. He was enjoying her embarrassed and mortified torment, a little too much.

“I’m glad that you think so, Max. I mean, I’m straight but even I can admit that if I met the amazing and perfect Chat Noir … I’d practically swoon. He’s a looker.” Adrien grinned tightly. “Don’t _you_ think so, Mari?”

Marinette’s eyes went hard; a cold sapphire blue as she glowered at him. _I hate you._

“She doesn’t think. She _knows._ ” Alya added, only adding fuel to the fire that was the catalyst to Marinette’s horrifying predicament. “It’s all that tight leather. And didn’t you tell me once that Chat Noir’s ass looked mighty fine in that suit of his?”

_“I did no such thing!”_ Marinette protested, her lovely freckled face the most beautiful shade of pink.

“I believe, Alya. Who wouldn’t find Chat Noir’s ass, attractive?” Lance laughed.

“Leave her alone and stop joking.” Nino admonished, giving Lance a light whack across his arm.

“He’s not.” Jaxx said. “Lance is being completely serious.”

 

\-----

 

“Thanks for the tea, Mari. But did we really need to come up here to have a ‘private talk’?” Jaxx asked, sitting down on the floor, carefully sipping from her hot mug.

“When Alya wants something from me, there’s no stopping her. She’s not someone you say no to when she puts her mind to it.” Marinette sighed.

“You bet I am.” Alya quipped in response.

“Did you get the footage you needed for the studio in the end?”

Alya nodded. “Yup. All good. I’ll start on the video editing when I get home. Anna just sent me the guidelines for what they want. Once the video is done, it will be perfect publicity for the studio, whilst advertising the Annual Ball you two will be performing in. And all of you danced really well … or rather … both of you danced really well with your partners. I barely looked at Léa.”

“You would say that.” Marinette laughed.

“No but really. She’s so _expressionless._ I got nothing when I was filming her. But you and Adrien, it was like filming porn. And that kiss at the end. Damn! Exhibitionist much! It was so sexy, so intimate.”

“ _Alya …_ ”

“What Alya means is the connection between the two of you was so raw and so real.” Jaxx said quickly. “It was really quite spectacular to watch. It _was_ sexy but really romantic. You two were amazing and very beautiful to watch.”

“You and Lance were just as good!” Alya said. “I captured some quality eye-fucking, there. I mean, there was no kiss but the bedroom eyes Lance gave you was so steamy the whole room could have been on fire.”

Marinette chuckled at their newest friend’s sudden embarrassment. “You and Lance are amazing dancers. I mean, the chemistry between you two looked so … natural. You two have to be more than just partners.”

“You … y-you can say that.”

“Oh? Boyfriend and girlfriend?” Alya smirked.

Jaxx blushed a bright pink, dark eyes shining as she shyly tucked her long straight hair behind her ears. She chuckled bashfully. “Being engaged kinda helps with the chemistry”

“Yeah. Being engaged helps … _WHAT?!!!!!!!_ ” Alya shrieked.

Marinette chocked on her water. Had she heard right?

“You’re engaged? He’s your fiancee?!” Marinette exclaimed.

“You guys aren’t the first to react like that. Everyone does.”

“B-but you’re so … you’re only …” Alya stuttered.

“Yeah. I’m around the same age as you. But Lance and I have actually known each other for most of our lives. We went to grade school together. We were best friends. I moved schools when we reached secondary school but we didn’t reconnect until senior college. We kinda clicked. I was always in love with him. It was amazing knowing he reciprocated my feelings for all those years.”

“Wait … so when did you actually get engaged?”

“I thought this was about my dancing skills?” Jaxx laughed, but continued her story. “When we were finishing senior school, both of us expected to drift apart, despite being in a relationship. I wanted to go to university here. He wanted to stay in Canada. I didn’t want to hold him back. We talked about it before we did anything rash, like suddenly break up.”

“Sounds familiar. Wish I could have been as honest and as open as you were.” Alya mumbled to herself. Marinette gave a sympathetic smile.

“So we agreed just to take a break. To see. Honestly, I left knowing there wouldn’t be anyone else. But long distance relationships are hard. I was prepared for the worst; for him to find someone. I always told him constantly that he was in my thoughts, that I hadn’t met anyone. How could I? I could only think about him. So after the very first semester of university, just as I’m about to return to my dorm from class, and there’s Lance. Out of the blue. He’s there. And he takes me in his arms and hugging me really tight. He told me that he couldn’t do long distance any more. He missed me too much. He tried to move on, because it would have been easier, even when I couldn’t. More than that, he didn’t want to. So we spent the semester break together. And the night before he was leaving, he took me out to dinner and he gave me what I assumed was a promise ring. But when he got down on one knee …”

Marinette hadn’t realised she had been holding her breath.

“Wow … that’s so romantic.”

Jaxx blushed even harder. “It’s downright cheesy, I couldn’t believe it. I was sobbing, laughing and absolutely distraught all at once. The realistic side of my brain kept telling me to wait; that we were too young. But hearing him say he didn’t care how long it took for me to say yes, there would only be me, there wasn’t any point saying no. I was so in love with him.”

“But you don’t wear a ring finger on your left hand.” Marinette pointed out.

Jaxx held out her right-middle finger. It was adorned by a simple silver band, but it’s intricate woven appearance was surprisingly elegant. It suited her. “I have _really_ slender fingers. Lance wanted to exchange it for a smaller one but when he went back to the store with me to find another size, there wasn’t. Apparently, the ring _was_ the smallest size. It fit my middle finger and I didn’t want another one. It was this ring or no other.”

“I’m surprised. I suspected you two were together, I just…” Marinette trailed off, unsure on how to continue.

“Yeah, I get it. Keep in mind, we were best friends before we started dating. He still is my best friend. But it’s just so much more. He still jokes around me, teases me constantly because I’m so much shorter than him, but he’s always so … I don’t know. Tender. Gentle. Affectionate I guess. I guess there was more or it got more noticeable when he asked me to marry him. But I guess the way we behave in public, a lot of people assume we’re just boyfriend and girlfriend. But we’ve been engaged for three years now. Long time, I know. But our parents weren’t exactly … _impressed_ when they found out. My dad absolutely flipped. We can’t get married until after I graduate. Which I understand. Oh … and my parents want me to actually find work and earn a living before I give them grand-children. They were very adamant about that.”

“Makes sense actually. Same with my parents with the whole, graduate and live your life first and don’t even think about getting knocked up at your age.” Alya shuddered.

“Wow; yours too.” Jaxx laughed.

It was Mari who answered. “If she gets pregnant before she’s twenty-seven, her parents are disowning her. And whoever is the father, gets castrated.” 

“Wow. Lance got off lucky then. It was a punch to the face and my limit is twenty-six.”

“What about you, Mari? What about your parents?” Alya asked.

Marinette thought for a moment. To be honest, they hadn’t really talked about _that_ step.

“We never had the talk yet. I mean … I never had a boyfriend before Adrien came back into my life … I never _dated._ ”

“To be fair, Lance was my first kiss and first date … first everything really.” Jaxx added thoughtfully.  “I never really dated when we took that ‘break’ so I understand where you’re coming from.”

“My parents know that Adrien and I are in for the long haul. But thinking about it now I’ve never really considered the whole marriage thing.”

“Pffft! This is coming from the girl who’d call her self Mrs. Agreste when she was fifteen.” Alya snorted loudly.

“That was six years ago! It’s - well, i-it’s different now. And you know it is. What about you and Nino? Surely _you_ never expected to marry him. And even if you did at fifteen, the commitment, planning that kind of future together is much different to what you’d expected back then.”

Alya went quiet for a moment. But then she gave a shy smile.

“I’m gonna tell you guys something; something I haven’t even told my parents yet. But Nino and I have been talking about it for a while. But it’s enough for the both of us to know that, as you put it Mari, we're both in it for the long haul, no matter what happens or what everyone else thinks.”

“Go on.” Jaxx said.

“Well … Nino really wants to be a dad one day. And … and I really want to be a mom. Like, I never thought that it’s something that I wanted to happen. But I do. I really want to have children with Nino.”

“I’ve never seen you like this, Alya.” Marinette admitted, surprised by the genuine warmth and shy excitement in her eyes about starting a family. But her best friend looked so happy; truly happy. Alya had been like this since Nino had left and now he had come back. things were slowly righting themselves with her closest friends and knowing that made _her_ happy. And relieved.

“But enough about me. We’re here to talk about you and Adrien. Spill. I’ve waited long enough and you owe me an explanation, all things considered.”

Marinette sighed, running a hand through the tresses of her thick hair. “You know this. Adrien and I had a little bit of a fight. There was a slight misunderstanding and we ended up blaming each other for things. And we didn’t know how to handle it.”

“Mari - you didn’t tale to him for several weeks. This was more than just a break up fight. You didn’t even want to see me!”

“I was sick for one thing; I wasn’t allowed to see and talk to anyone, apart from my parents. And it wasn’t just that. It was a bunch of different things all piling up on top of each other. Things from weeks before. It just got too much; guess I had a bit of a break down and couldn’t take any more. The argument I guess was the catalyst.” 

_That_ was a lie. Marinette wasn’t sure if she should tell both of them about her parent’s financial problems and that she had been the cause of them. 

Alya fixed her a very hard look and Marinette flinched beneath her gaze. She knew that look. It was the look her best friend always gave her the practically spelt; _Bullshit._ She knew that there was so much more to the story and Marinette was purposely concealing things from her. Her friend was far to perceptive for her own good and Marinette knew ALya would wriggle the truth from her eventually, one way or another. 

Marinette could only shrug helplessly at her friend, silently begging her to not delve. At least for this afternoon. There were far too many people. It wasn’t as if she didn’t trust Jaxx, Lance, Kim or Max with what had happened. But Alya was her closest confidant and some things could only be shared with her. And with what had happened between Adrien and her, some things were just too personal. 

Alya rolled her eyes but begrudgingly accepted that the truth would have to wait.

“Well; I’m glad you and Adrien made up. Let’s hope it stays that way. Miserable-You and Sulky-Hissy-Fit-Adrien aren’t very good combinations.”

“I promise; we’re working things out slowly, taking things one day at a time. Boyfriend and girlfriend stuff is pretty new to us.”

_Also a lie. They had plenty to work out, sure. But relationship wise … it was a little bit complicated explaining being in love with your crush who also just happened to be your super-hero partner. They had been working things out unconsciously for six years. They just never realised it._

“Speaking of relationships, how many days until Nino leaves Paris?” Jaxx asked, taking another sip of her tea.

“Four days.” Alya said, with a mournful undertone in her voice. “It’s going to be difficult. I mean I just … things were finally getting better. We actually fixed things between us. Or rather, still fixing. We’re also taking it one day at a time too. It’s hard work; difficult. Neither of us are perfect at it but both of us are putting a lot of effort into it and that makes us happy.”

“I’m glad to see you happy, Alya.” Marinette said sincerely. “After that … _breakup_ … you were never really the same. You tried to brush it off as if it were nothing. But everyone knew you were hurting inside.”

Alya curled up in on her self, resting her chin on her knees, as she tucked them in. “I did a lot of things that were really out of character back then. A lot of them I regret. But thankfully, Nino doesn’t hate me for it. And now that we’ve been truthful with one another, I can’t exactly blame him for leaving. In some muddled fucked up way, he left because he wanted me to have the best future possible. He felt his character, lifestyle and outlook were just holding me back. Nino left for unselfish reasons. And this really warped something in my head, can’t blame him for it.”

“He did it because he loved you. It’s confusing and down right annoying. Relationships and romance aren’t nearly as perfect we’d like.” Jaxx shrugged, accepting her words. “They’re so complicated that they make everyone go crazy. They cause hearts to break, mental breakdowns, angry outbursts … a whirlwind of horrible feelings. You’d think they do more harm than good, most times.”

“But, if you’re honest with each other; get things out in the open, and actually take the effort to communicate your feelings despite how hard it is … you eventually work things out. It may take a while, but that effort is always worth while if both of you work hard to make that love work again.” Marinette spoke softly, a warm smile on her face as she fondly remembered the precious memory of realising her boyfriend; her heart, was also her beloved Chat Noir. 

“Yeah. It makes all the wonderful memories and the many incredible things that have yet to happen, so much better and more precious to us.” Alya said with a grin, hazel eyes dazzlingly bright behind her glasses. “In any case, when we get back to my studio, the plan is to fuck as much as we can until he leaves. He’s an absolute beast in bed. And I intend to reap the many benefits from that knowledge.”

“I can’t tell which one of you is more insatiable. You or him?” Marinette muttered.

“My guess it’s an even fifty.” Jaxx said thoughtfully.

“Oh don’t play innocent. You just need to look at Lance once to know that he’s the kind that likes a little more than romantic love making. Am I right?”

“Alya! You can’t ask her something like that?! Jacquetta, you don’t have to answer.” 

Her poor dance mate looked as if she was about internally combust from the sudden internal explosion of embarrassment that had consumed her; her face a vivid scarlet. She buried her face in her hands.

“I’m right. I can tell. He plays you like an upright bass.” Alya grinned, smug. “The most kinkiest place you’ve had sex. Go on. I dare you!”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t refer to it as ‘kinky’.” Jaxx mumbled awkwardly.

“And it wasn’t?”

Jaxx didn’t say anything. Marinette hadn’t thought it possible for a person to turn even redder than before. Clearly her friend was more than mortified.

“Lay off, Alya. She’s not used to your extremities.” Marinette sighed.

“No. it’s okay, Mari.” Jaxx finally said with some conviction. “If you really want to know, Alya; I was twenty. We went back to Canada for a bit during the uni break. And we had sex in the back of his Range Rover.”

Alya looked disappointed. “That’s it? _Boring._ ”

Jaxx paused before hiding her face once more, her hands muffling her voice. “He jumped me. My hands were suddenly tied. There was a … um, a … feather.”

Marinette blanched, turning to her quiet friend. Alya gave a tight grin.

_“Kinky!”_

“Lance was always the more … _adventurous_ , of the two of us. I mean, after three years I still can’t … um. It’s embarrassing but I can’t help but …. _arghh!_ Alya, stop grinning. You’re making it worse! This is so embarrassing.”

“So Jaxx likes it rough. I’m impressed. And stop blushing. This is girl talk. It’s the perfect time to reveal are biggest secrets and darkest fantasies.” 

“He’s persuasive. And afterwards, the best part is when we just lie or sit together, talking about normal things or cuddling, no matter where we are or what we’ve done. It makes the whole thing that happened between us a lot easier and even more special. And I guess the intimacy of it doesn’t fade either. It’s just a different kind.”

“So have you done the do yet? Or at the very least taken your pants off.”

Again. Marinette choked on her water. Only this time it felt as if someone had done so by shoving an entire monsoon down her throat. 

“Oh looks. She’s blushing. And the fact you’re still wearing a turtle neck. You know, we already know you’ve been climbing the man like a tree. What’s the point of hiding it?”

With an embarrassed glower toward the two of them, Marinette reluctantly pulled down the fabric covering the multiple love bites.

“There are more but I’m not going to say where.” Mari mumbled.

Alya gave a tight grin. “For how long?”

“A while. I mean you know that we made out after a few days of dating but-”

“No. For how long have you been doing _more_ than just a few make-out sessions in the park late at night. Adrien’s nothing short of a gentleman. So anything sexier then constant grinding and foreplay on hardwood is something that demands for retribution. I’m shocked you didn’t tell me this so I want meets and I want them now.”

“It’s not foreplay, Alya.” Jaxx sighed, pinching her nose.

“Thank god someone here agrees with me.”

“This is coming from someone whose engaged to their dance partner. So yeah, I completely understand.”

Marinette blushed. “Like I said, I have more of these on my body but I’m not telling you where they are.”

Alya pouted. ‘Come on! Girl talk! You can tell me!’

“Nope! It’s not happening.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Yay! Sorry guys but work has been so busy lately! I'll try to post more frequently.


	48. Strange Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This fanfiction is now rated Mature, thus is suitable for 'mature' audiences.

“So … how was it? Alya let you off easily? And won’t sewing onto the stretch fabric of your costume make it too tight to put on?” Tiki perched quietly on her chosen’s shoulder, watching her sew the beautiful intricate detailing onto her costumes.

“I’ll be sewing the appliqué separately and then i’ll use special stretch adhesive glue for my costume; add a few darts here and there just to make certain. But I can hand sew appliqué to Adrien’s costume. That’s the joy about ‘male’ costumes, as they tend to be standard dress clothes but extra showy. It’s a good thing too. I’ll get extra marks for demonstrating I hand-stitched something straight onto the costume. As for Alya, I thinks she seemed appeased enough. And I was surprised with what I learned about Jaxx. But it’s nice to see her so happy.”

“Three years is a long time.” Tiki mused quietly, remembering the conversation as she hid from the group, in Marinette’s pink bag. She had eavesdropped on their conversation. “But it’s very rare to find people like that. I know that they will be together for a long time and experience all sorts of things.”

“Hopefully that will be Adrien and me.” Marinette murmured quietly. 

“What do _you_ think?”

Marinette stopped her sewing for a moment. Like she had said to Alya, it hadn’t been something she and Adrien had talked about yet. But he had mentioned it to her at the studio and that they would definitely talk about it sooner rather than later. She had remembered his words. What she wanted; that crazed naive dream of marrying him, having his children, doing all the things she had wanted in this life with him by her side; it wasn’t a dream but a promise … it had made her heart heart when he confessed it was something that he wanted too. But something so big and so uncertain had to be discussed; they couldn’t simply rush into things straight away, certainly not unprepared. They had barely begun to figure out things as they were. There were still matters that had to be resolved, and other bridges, big ones, that had yet to be crossed. That talk would come in time. She knew that. But there were lessons to be learned first. Things had to be done slowly and methodically. One day at a time. Always one day at a time. And for once Marinette was more than willing to push aside her impatience for that. 

But the look in Adrien’s dazzling green eyes; they were so earnest. And more honest than his voice and Marinette hadn’t met anyone with a voice as sincere as his. 

“I … I like to think that we are. But I’ve never really considered the whole aspects of that future. I mean, I’m not fifteen anymore, Tiki.”

“Things seem a lot more difficult for people when they get older.” Tiki agreed. 

Her chosen could only nod her head quietly.

“Theres … there’s also _another_ thing I need to have a little chat to you about. I admit it’s not going to be the most comfortable conversations. Alas! It must be done.”

Tiki flitted down onto the sewing table, whilst Marinette carefully put her work to the side. She’d done enough for the day and it was coming close to nighttime. The sun was beginning to turn the sky a lovely deep red. By all accounts Adrien’s costume was practically done. She just needed to finish the final detailing. And her costume was almost finished too. She wanted to revise a few things but they were minor. And to be perfectly honest, though she would have never admitted it to anyone, she was quite keen on the whole ‘mask’ idea with Adrien.

“What did you want to talk about it?”

Tiki looked a little embarrassed, her bright blue eyes slightly pained. If her red kwami could blush she would have.

“Well, I know you and Adrien are clearly comfortable now with each other. Everything has settled and it’s as it should be.” Tiki started slowly, almost hesitantly.

“Yes but what’s your point? You can just tell me, Tiki. I’ll listen.”

Tiki took a deep breath. Honestly, as much as she loved each and ever one of her chosen ones, this was always a conversation she would never quite get used to. It caused her as much discomfort as it did them, perhaps more so. After all, she had to ensure that they remained … _responsible._

“I have no problem with you and Adrien spending time together. You’re consenting adults after all and Adrien’s that kind of man to remain a gentleman and thankful keep his head on his shoulders.”

There was a brief moment of silence. Finally Marinette spoke, eyes and voice very wary.

“Why do I get the feeling this is going to be one of _those_ conversations?”

“Because it is. Now, now. Don’t get all embarrassed and flustered, Marinette.” Tiki reasoned gently, watching the sudden hue of bright pink suddenly flush across Marinette’s face. The cringe that had reached her bright blue eyes didn’t go unnoticed, either. “Just here me out. And listen. I’ll only have this conversation with you, once.”  
Marinette groaned, leaning back into her chair. This was honestly mortifying. She was going to have the ‘talk’ with none other than a tiny mythical creature. 

“You two are at an age where I know you’ll be responsible. But there are things I need you to … take into account. Such as the time and place.”

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this!”

“Yet it must be done. I’ve had many chosens, Marinette, and I’ve no doubt you’re not going to be the last to feel as my previous ones did. Remember; should you feel the urge to be more physically intimate … there is always a time and place for that. Though I understand some urges can’t be controlled, it is much safer to be intimate when you’re civilians. You have a duty to protect the city of Paris and remained focus when you’re Ladybug.”

“Tiki!” Marinette protested, “I don’t plan on jumping him when I’m Ladybug. I know that much. Nor do I plan on having sex in broad daylight and in public.”

Tiki shook her head, apologetic. “It’s not that simple. Umm … did you notice or rather, _feel_ anything different when Chat Noir stayed over, last night.”

“Tiki! I don’t want to talk about that! That’s private!”

“And I understand. I completely get that you don’t want to discuss private and personal matters with another. Many of my chosen ones reacted the same way but I’m being very serious. You have to know that there are certain … aspects to a physical relationship that will affect Adrien and you, since you have miraculous powers.”

Marinette frowned at that. _Odd._

She was expecting more of the; _make sure you use protection, don’t have sex in public places, get tested frequently, stay clean as well as faithful and don’t have babies too soon._ Not this.

“What does having a miraculous have anything to do with Adrien and I having - um … being intimate?”

“Like I asked before, did you notice anything different or feel anything different when you were with Adrien last night, since he was still Chat Noir? You have to be completely honest with me. I know you’re embarrassed about this but you need to be completely open with me about this. No doubt, Plagg despite how he words things, is also having the exact same conversation with Adrien.”

Face still bright red and heated by her embarrassment and utter discomfort, Marinette finally confessed how she felt, though albeit very unwillingly.

“It … was a lot different, I mean, not completely. But Adrien when was Chat, it felt as if he was less uninhibited. I mean, he’s always been the gentleman, but after what happened when he …” Marinette couldn’t finish, the heated memory of Adrien taking her by surprise when he buried his face in between her thighs, giving her nothing but sweet unadulterated pleasure far too much for her. 

“Meaning?”

“Tiki, _really?!_ ”

“Marinette. I need an answer.”

“Fine! Adrien’s always been attentive and tender; made sure I was comfortable. Always asked if I was okay. I mean, it wasn’t as if he didn’t last night. But seeing him as Chat, I couldn’t help but feel he was more … I’m not sure how to describe it. More desperate, in need perhaps? He wanted so much more. It was … thrilling I guess. Dangerous even, knowing that as Chat he’s far more powerful but even in that form, I know he’d never hurt me. I wanted it too so no one is to blame. I wasn’t … we'll … a-ashamed for what happened that last. Nor was I embarrassed. It just happened because we wanted it to. Is that wrong to feel that way?” Marinette finally confessed quietly, looking at her hands which had fallen to her lap.

“Of course not, Marinette. What you feel is perfectly normal, for the both of you. And it’s just as I thought.” Tiki concluded gently.

“About what? What are you talking about?”

“When you become your superhero counterparts, you are far more powerful beings. Everything is more. You have new abilities, your reflexes and abilities are heightened. Even your emotions and the sensations you feel, but so is your ability to control them as such. But even then that can only go so far.” Tiki explained.

“Okay … so what we feel, as well as what we do, our skills and such, are enhanced.”

“Yes. Or rather you always had that skill. You were naturally athletic, flexible, thus talented at gym. You were always intelligent and brave, standing up for what you believed in; determined to see things through. Having a miraculous has merely improved your current abilities. But not just your abilities, it physically changes you, and somewhat alters your mental and emotional state.”

“Wait … after how many years, you’re telling me that this miraculous makes me feel things I shouldn’t - it makes me go cuckoo?”

_“No,_ Marinette! Like I explained, it only enhances what you feel. And that’s why I need you to understand you have to be careful whenever you feel the need to be intimate, with Adrien, whenever you are Ladybug. But especially when he is Chat Noir. _”_

“Please, Tiki. You’re not going to tell me our sex drives will be enhanced by one hundred percent now that we’re finally back to where we should be.”

Tiki looked at her dead in the eyes. “More like one _thousand_ percent.”

Marinette’s mouth fell open, bright blue eyes wide with disbelief. What was once a bright embarrassed red; quickly turned ashen.

“You’re not being serious, I hope.”

Tiki nodded gravely. “As mortifying as this revelation is, I am telling the truth. And it’s been the same with all miraculous holders I’m afraid. Each one is affected slightly differently due to being different animals; you, a ladybug and Adrien, a cat. But the end result is pretty much the same. Every emotion, reaction, physicality and sensation is heightened by the power of the miraculous. It’s been like that through the ages. And unfortunately, that also includes those feelings that revolve around sexual intercourse.”

“W-why? How … but …?” Marinette stammered, shaking her head. She didn’t want to believe this. This all had to be some misunderstanding. This was worse than just an embarrassing conversation; she could have dealt with that. But this?! This was; she didn’t even know what _this,_ was!

“The creators made us this way.” Tiki continued, “Hence why I’m telling you to be careful and responsible. Emotions for the both of you can be overwhelming and at the wrong time, it can be dangerous to not just the civilians but to the two of you as well. Remember, your duties as protectors of this city always comes first. You two must learn to control sudden emotional outbursts and indeed, urges to … ‘mate’.”

“We never felt that way before. I’ve been Ladybug for how long now? The same as Adrien, with Chat Noir.”

“It only happens after the miraculous holders have established a relationship; and only when they know their true identities, providing that the miraculous holders do end up a bonded pair. Some cases, it hasn’t happened. But most times our chosen ones have always ended up together romantically and physically bound. But …”

“But?”

“Last night, I sensed after you spent the night with Adrien, you were still Marinette, He was Chat Noir. His effect on you is strong; consider it like pheromones. Incredibly strong ones at that. Yet neither of you are truly aware of it but they are always there.”

“So that’s it. We have an overactive need to be intimate because of pheromones.”

“No. That’s only part of the reason. You’ve always been physically and sexually attracted to each other, since the very start of your relationship. That night in the park, remember.”

Marinette cringed. “I guess.”

“After finding out your identities and finally resolving your relationship, your miraculouses activated and these pheromones were created. And now they affect and increase your existing physical attraction to one another. Think of it like the chemistry between two people. One day, the chemistry is incredibly strong. Suddenly there is a physical change and that chemistry is blown out of proportion, unless both people learn to control it.”

“But we haven’t even had sex yet.” Marinette protested.

“True but that doesn’t mean you’re not connected and bound completely now. These urges will only get stronger. There will be a … brief period after that time happens when having a physical relationship will be the only thing you’ll think about; the only thing you’ll need and want to do.”

“So you’re saying us finally establishing our relationship; being completely comfortable with each other upon finding our secret identities was what; a catalyst to this?”

Tiki nodded her head. “Exactly.”

“I … _huh?_ ”

Tiki thought hard for a moment, her eyes creasing in concentration as she tried to explain everything in the simplest way possible. 

“The only way I can describe what has happened to you and Adrien, as a result of the magic of the miraculous is that is works in ‘stages’.”

“Stages. Like, a consecutive sequence. Cause and effect?”

“Yes, Marinette. All of your positive emotions, along with your acceptance of a wholesome relationship ignited that final spark, causing the final affects of the miraculous to activate. _Stages,_ remember: the miraculous slowly altering different parts of you at different or separate moments your life, each one needing a different sort of ‘catalyst’ as you described to put those effects into place. You chose to become Ladybug when you were fifteen; the miraculous first affected your physical attributes, strength and agility, as well as mental skills, enhancing them beyond the norm. You learned and accepted that hard and difficult decisions and secrets were a necessary evil in becoming a superhero, despite the hardship you were to face. This in turn activated the miraculous to its second stage. It provided you magic and more elaborate glamour spells as you got older, enabling you to hide your identity. It also assisted you in maintaining a strong and focused mental state in order for you to carry on your duties. And finally, upon beginning and accepting a more romantic relationship with your partner, the miraculous has begun its final stage. Unfortunately, considering the very nature of what your miraculous is affecting right now; this particular stage has been the hardest and most embarrassing to embrace. It is quite often our chosens have been completely ashamed of these sudden changes.”

“Tiki … I don’t know how to-” Marinette began weakly, still very white.

“I understand your reaction; the denial, shock, embarrassment. I even understand the shame and humiliation. But this is something you have to overcome. If you don’t or refuse to consider the implications of this relationship, it could end badly for both of you.”

“Before, I didn’t feel anything similar to what I felt last night. At least … not on that scale.” Marinette confessed quietly. She was unsure of where to look, how to hold her hands, aside from rubbing them back and forth, the nerves and anxiety welling in the pit of her stomach enough to make her palms turn sweaty. Her sewing, her parents who were watching their favourite sitcom downstairs, her life outside her bedroom, had been absolutely forgotten.

“I have a theory to that; a bad one. It might also be the reason why you and Adrien responded so late to these emotions and urges, considering …”

“You weren’t listening to us were you?!” Marinette squealed.

Tiki quickly shook her head. “I quickly left your room the moment I saw you both climb down on the bunk bed. It was the look in Adrien’s eyes; the way he stared at you and the way you were staring at him that set of some alarm bells. The glow and intensity in his eyes was far too possessive; he practically radiated power and raw desire and not the human kind. Because of that I had to talk to you about this.”

Marinette braves a sigh of semi-relief. The entirety situation however, still didn’t change much though.

“Okay then,” she huffed. “What’s the big theory? Why do you think me and Adrien haven’t had the sudden animalistic urge to … I can’t say this without sounding like Alya.”

“Understandable.” Tiki chuckled. “But I think it’s to do with the fact that you and Adrien are bachata dancers.”

_Wait … what?_

“That’s your theory? Seriously?” Her chosen scoffed, crossing her arms.

“Just listen for a second. Bachata is a very sensual dance style. The professionalism required to perform means both of you have to consider each other’s feelings. Naturally such an intimate dance style makes you feel certain things both emotionally and physically, especially if both of you are mutually attracted to each other. But does that mean you’re going to act immediately on those feelings; on those urges? No! Because you know how to control those feelings in order to be professional, responsible as well as respectful to not only your audience as you perform, but to each other as well.”

“I agree to that but what has that got to do with out relationship?”

“It’s like I said; you’ve been controlling yourselves, waiting and seeking each others consent and respecting one another. And you’ve been managing all of these complex feelings since the first day you started dancing together. I expect all of the rigorous training and practice you did, sort of appropriated into your personal lives. Both of you respect each other; both of you wait until each other is comfortable. Consent is vital to the both of you and I don’t want the effects of the miraculous to ruin the significance of that ‘consent’. It’s the most plausible if not a little far-fetched, reason to why you and Adrien responded so late in the final stages. Well, that and several other factors such as your parents financial difficulties and poor excuse of a breakup causing you to have an emotional breakdown. Once things were finally better, the miraculous activated. But it practically overwhelmed you with feelings and sensations you’ve never experienced. It’s this reason why you and Adrien reacted the way you did last night.”

Marinette was slowly beginning to understand. Although the situation was complicated, Tiki’s thorough reasoning did make sense. Last night, it was as if a dam had broken between them; a violent and never-ending flood of heated sensations and passion sent them into an emotionally and physically-charged overdrive. They hadn’t cared for the consequences of what could have happened because last night there were none. They couldn’t think of anything else but each other. There was only each other. Neither of them could hold back; both of them were willing to drown in the sudden and overpowering feeling that consumed that. And knowing that now; that she could lose herself to such little control, bewildered her, scared her a little. At least enough to know she would need to talk to Adrien about this if she was to get through this whole mess.

“It’s a very good theory, now that I think about it.” Marinette finally said, softly.

Tiki shrugged. “The only one that seemed appropriate. Never imagined I would have to thank dancing lessons for keeping my chosen and her bonded partner, in check. In any case there’s discipline and integrity as well as intimacy and connection in a performance. In fact, it’s this very discipline I need the both of you to apply to your daily lives, especially when you plan on taking that next step with Adrien. I’m not saying you have to be absolutely militant about it. Just be responsible; careful. That way you’ll be able to have a healthy physical relationship.”

“Be responsible; be careful and apply the same discipline we use when we dance.” Marinette repeated, firmly to herself, thus absorbing the gravity of her words.

“Yes. You have to be careful and vigilant. Chat Noir in a state of arousal is far more dangerous and more powerful than you. His … um … need for you will, be much more powerful and sometimes insatiable, considering he’s a cat.Not like a domestic house cat, although his character often proves otherwise. In reality, Chat Noir is equivalent to that of a leopard. Leopards are far more intimidating than a small cat. And they’re dangerous. They’re also territorial of mates. You’ll need to learn to adapt to that; to help _him_ adapt to that trait as well as compromise to certain situations. And as Ladybug, you will have the strength to fight him off if it gets to his head but I doubt that would ever happen. However, as yourself, should you wish to be intimate with him again whilst he’s still in his miraculous form, you have to be _very_ careful. Even if both of you think he’s in control; you never know. It takes one moment where he might be pushed too far. He would hurt you. Badly. And in turn, this would hurt him. I couldn’t bare it if something were to happen.”

“Tiki,” Marinette said quietly, more to herself than to the tiny red bug. “I know neither Chat nor Adrien would ever hurt me especially like that. He’s not like that.”

Was she trying to assure Tiki, or herself? She loved Adrien too much. She _knew_ him. 

“I know. Not intentionally at least. It has happened once with a previous chosen of Plagg. He never told me the full story. It pained and ashamed his chosen too much, seeing the claw marks on his mate’s body.”

“T-that … that won’t _ever_ h-happen.”

“Adrien is the kind of man whose been controlled for much of his life. Chat Noir gives him hat freedom to break from his control-” Tiki began cautiously but Marinette swiftly cut her off, speaking with more conviction.

This time, Marinette was firm, bright blue eyes hardening into steel with conviction. 

“Chat Noir would _never_ hurt me; unintentionally or otherwise.”

“Then let me offer this little piece of advice. Truth be told, I was worried last night. When I encouraged you to be together last night, I hadn’t expected it to be when Adrien was still Chat Noir. And it frightened me a little, since neither of you were prepared for the emotions you would feel. Thankfully, Adrien exercised enough control that neither of you continued too far but still I could sense that line was almost crossed. Especially since by the sounds of it, from what both of you felt and by what you did, it seems too much too quickly. And very out of character.”

Marinette finally relented. Tiki was only looking out for her and she had every right to be concerned.

“Alright. I can do that. What else?”

“When you do decide the time is right to take that final step in your relationship, please consider your first time the possibility that it would be best when you’re just you, and just Adrien. No miraculous. For the both of you. Neither of you are prepared for that yet, let alone the repercussions it could cause. At least, for the first few times.”

“I thought you said we’d feel the need to ‘mate’ regardless.”

“Yes. That connection affects you even beyond the miraculous, but without the miraculous, it’s much safer. Both of you aren’t overwhelmed by an emotional and physical overdrive as urgent and as persistent as a locomotive. In some ways you’ll be able to think, take your time and consider each other’s feelings and needs. You’ll take things slower. In truth, it would be more enjoyable and definitely safer for the two of you, considering all that’s happened. And secondly, even if only one of you is in your miraculous forms, at the time it will be more about sating that ‘need’. And I don’t want you to feel just that alone for your first time. I want your first time to be special, as well as safe.”

“T-Tiki …”

“Please think about what I’m saying.”

“And …” She didn’t even want to think about it. “I-if something bad happens?”

“Your Chat Noir; your Adrien … lets say I was surprised to see his strength let alone his common sense to control his miraculous urges, considering his desire for freedom and uninhibited lifestyle has been more than just strong. It’s been a utmost dream of his, the moment he first got his miraculous. I’m not saying we should overestimate his strength over something that should be more far more powerful than him. It’s very admirable continues to amaze me. But we must not underestimate him too. Like I said that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t exercise caution. If something bad were to happen, accident or not … I don’t think it would be too drastic, not too much to hurt you emotionally or mentally. And certainly not physically to _that_ extent. But it would affect Adrien, greatly.” Tiki mused, thinking hard at the predicament.

“What should I do, if that were the case?”

“Talk to him. Tell him that it’s alright. That you’re willing to take things slow; to be in control, that you’re the one to stop him if it gets too far.” she said simply. “Even if it means rejecting him, you’ll have to be strong enough for that, knowing that it’s for the best not just for you, but for Adrien too. Don’t rush things. Be careful and take your time.”

“I … I-I understand. It’s j-just sad. And a little scary. Who am I kidding? This is _very_ scary. And a bit humiliating.”

“I know. But all of this comes with being Ladybug and Chat Noir. It’s frightening at first, but working through things together one at a time and being completely open with each other is the only way you’ll get through this. In truth, do the exact same thing you’ve been doing now with him, since you got back together. Only extend this to the physical aspect of your relationship.”

The more Marinette thought carefully about Tiki’s words, the more her kwami’s words affected her. There was so much truth in what she said. Thus, she had every right to encourage her chosen to be careful in this situation. Though the advice was a more than a surprise, unusual and a little frightening, but Marinette knew Tiki’s heart was in the right place. She just wanted her, _and_ Adrien to be safe; to make sure that neither of them would get hurt if something bad were to truly happen.

“I get where your coming from Tiki. Thank you.”

“And of course … there’s still the usual advice.” Tiki added thoughtfully.

“I know. Use protection. Get tested regularly. Stay faithful. Be responsible and consider when and where is the most appropriate time.” 

“Yes. The usual. I’m sure your parents are going to discuss _that_ with you. After all; you and Adrien are going to be together for a long time.”

Marinette gave a shy and rueful smile. “Here’s to hoping.”

“Are you going to marry him? Start a family perhaps? That’s all you could think about when you were younger.”

Marinette went bashful once more. “It’s not that I don’t. I still want to. But when I was fifteen, everything was practically a fairytale. Silly, huh?”

Tiki gave a comforting smile. “A lot of my chosen ones have said the same thing. As they got older, they quickly learned that becoming an adult, dreams and aspirations change. Choices and decisions that are made are often unexpected. You not only think about what’s good in the long run, but rather what you can do today; what’s possible at present. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made and they can be painful. Sometimes you make mistakes; plenty of them! But it’s the necessary stepping stone of growing up and learning. You mature from the things you’ve experienced. No doubt you see things differently.”

“Things have changed between Adrien and I. What I want isn’t exactly different but the steps I have to get there, the path I need to take is going to be challenging. I honestly don’t know what the future holds.”

“Uncertainty is frightening. But facing it head on with someone you care about and sharing those troubles makes the whole thing so much worth while. It proves that you and your partner can do anything, and that you can do more. You’ve been doing that the moment you first became Ladybug.”

“But this is different. I mean what if Adrien decides to move overseas after his degree? What if I have to move due to my work? What if we can’t live together? Could we do long distance relationships? I don’t want to experience the same thing Alya did.”

“Like I said; uncertainty is frightening. That’s why you talk things over. Just like Jaxx and Lance did. And they discovered that they couldn’t handle the separation. And look where they are now?”

“They’re story’s really romantic though; a little perfect don’t you think?”

“Perfect, yes. But striving for that perfection isn’t perfect at all. What they went through was difficult; a challenge to overcome. Going through those difficulties together despite what lay ahead and what they experienced - I guess you could say their ‘perfect’ relationship developed from all those annoying imperfect struggles. They tried. And they succeeded.”

_“Perfectly imperfect.”_ Marinette mused.

Tiki gave a smile. “Yes. Just like you.”

 

\-----

 

Ladybug clambered across the rooftops with confidence and ease, her streamline body glowing ruby-red in the night lights. It was already evening and all Marinette wanted to do was spend time with Adrien. With all that had happened at the studio, having quite the crowd over at her place, and Tiki’s very through conversation, all she wanted to do was unwind. More than that, there were still several things she wanted to settle with her boyfriend; things that couldn’t be said or done in the company of others.

Knowing Nino was spending the last of his nights with Alya before he left Paris, and that Kim and Max were out working late due to their jobs, she was safe from any unwanted intrusions. Adrien and Marinette had barely made up, after all. What Marinette wouldn’t give to go on another date with Adrien; just the two of them. Where would they go? What would they do? Another dinner perhaps? A movie followed by a lunch? Something normal; a break from being the superheroes that they were and the difficulties that came with that lifestyle. 

It didn’t take her long to reach Adrien’s shared apartment. From her vantage point across the street, she could see him through the window. The curtains had been drawn back so he could stare out onto the Parisian street below him. 

He couldn’t see her. His beautiful face looked solemn; serious and very worried. And he was talking to someone over his shoulder; a tiny floating object glowing green with magic. He was talking to Plagg, not doubt having the exact same conversation that she had had with Tiki. And Adrien clearly didn’t like what he was hearing from the way his fist was tightly clenched, and the flash of angered frustration in his face. The floating ball flickered in agitation, mirroring the golden-haired man at the window, before zooming out of the room and out of sight.

Marinette couldn’t help but wince when Adrien gave an angry slam of his fist against the window pane before running his hands through his tousled hair, no doubt trying to calm himself. But it seemed venting out his frustration proved effortless and Adrien simply gave up, falling down onto the bed to stare at the ceiling.

“I have to talk to him.” she murmured, zip lining her yoyo and quickly swinging herself to the other building, silent and quick.

Adrien never heard her. He didn’t even glance at the window. Otherwise he would have seen a glimmer of red. Instead Plagg’s conversation had left Adrien thinking as he stared up at the cracked white paint of his ceiling. It wasn’t much but counting the stains and groves of the weathered paint was the only thing that seemed to calm him. Perhaps it was the monotony of it. In any case, there was so much to take into account and truth be told from that conversation; something that could only be done with a clear and rational head. Adrien was still angry, he couldn’t deny that, but the seriousness and the concern in his kwami’s eyes had rendered him speechless, and unsettled.

Plagg had given him a very long lecture about the dangers of being Chat Noir whenever he chose to be intimate with Marinette. At first Adrien had planned to brush it off; deal with the embarrassment, but the relentless intensity in the tiny cat’s green eyes had left him speechless. As it turned out, Plagg had every right to be angry with him; concerned Marinette’s safety and well-being. And now, Adrien was more furious and very disappointed at himself. 

He should have realised what he had felt; the signs were more than clear. He had be overwhelmed by unfamiliar sensations and a powerful urge to make Marinette his, he hadn’t even considered how Marinette felt. Worse; he hadn’t even wanted to. All he cared was about sating this overpowering need to possess her and Adrien was more than ashamed by how selfish and uncontrollable he had been last night. 

It was his responsibility after all; he had made a promise to her that be do thing right, to give her more. The promise seemed nothing but mere useless words now. He was thankful his actions last night had only ruined just that. It could have ended a lot worse. A lot worse. He could have hurt her. _Hurt_ her. Adrien didn’t even want to think about something so unfathomable. He just couldn’t. It made him sick to his stomach. 

But the sound of a quiet rap on the window made him turn suddenly. And evergreen eyes went wide with surprise when they captured bright sapphire blue and a red and black-spotted mask.

“ _L-Ladybug!_ What are you doing here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new chapter! Yay! This chapter tries to incorporate being responsible x miraculous magic ... I tried my best people! I really tried!


	49. Does Being Responsible Have Anything To Do With Underwear?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This fanfiction is now rated Mature, thus is suitable for 'mature' audiences.

Adrien opened the window, letting the superhero into his room. She had the most beautiful blush on her face.

“I had to see you. My kwami gave me a bit of a talk and it left me thinking about a few things.”

“Here to see anyone special?” Adrien smiled gently.

“You namely.”

“Where’s Chat Noir?”

“Probably busy mulling stuff over. I know Plagg had the same conversation with him.” Marinette said quietly as Adrien helped her inside. Tiki told me that he would.”

“You got that right.” Adrien sighed. “Wanna sit?” he gestured to the bed.

Ladybug gave a shy smile, sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed and Adrien joined her. He brought her tightly into his arms. 

“Missed you Bugaboo.”

“I’ve only been away from you for a few hours.”

“Feels like a century though. I always feel like I have to be near you. It’s only when we’re like this or when we dance together, I feel whole; everything feels right and as it should be.”

“Same. Tiki mentioned we would always have this need to be close to one another in the first few weeks.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, content with just being with each other.

“I guess I should let Tiki see Plagg.” Marinette sighed against his chest.

“He’s in the kitchen, snarfing down dairy products as usual.”

_“Spots off!”_

Adrien shielded his eyes from the dazzling flash of red. Marinette looked up at him sheepishly, her tiny red kwami perched on her shoulder. Tiki’s bright blue eyes gazed at them carefully.

“I trust you two will talk about this.” Tiki said, crossing her tiny arms across her chest.

Marinette nodded, as did Adrien.

“Very well. I’ll give you two some privacy. Remember. Be responsible; there is a time and a place, and consider each other’s safety and feelings.”

And she flitted away out the bedroom door.

“Well now what?” Marinette asked.

“Awkwardness ensues?”

“Joy.”

“How about we start off with something to break the ice? Let’s talk about something else first” Adrien suggested, as he easily pulled her onto his lap.

“That … that would be preferable.” Marinette admitted. She quickly got comfortable, snuggling against his warm chest.

“Anything you want to talk about then?”

“Um. Oh. Okay.” Marinette quickly siphoned through all the mundane and ordinary subjects that had been pushed into the back of her mind ever since the ‘talk’.

“Here’s something? The shoot we did, when are they releasing the photos? I just want to give my parents a heads up when they’ll expect to see images of their daughter on billboards.”

Adrien laughed at that. “Don’t worry. This shoot won’t be as big as some of the other stuff I’ve done. Okay, maybe a few billboards and perhaps a magazine advertisement here and there, but the shoot was designed to focus exclusively on dancers and their respective circles.”

“And you being a famous model gives them that little bit more exposure.”

“Such is life I suppose. But the dance campaign won’t be distributed until the evening of the ball. It actually coincides with it. That’s why Alya had to do all that filming. She’s making some short promotional videos and marketing adds, which will be distributed and aired first, in order to advertise the event properly. It should be coming out next week I think. And since most of Stüdaria’s costumes are being used in the many Annual Ball performances, it makes sense to release the catalogue of their latest collection, then.”

“Well … except ours.” 

“Yup! I’ve got a specially custom-designed performance outfit, hand-made by one of Paris’s most talented designers.”

“Oh stop it! Will you be signing autographs?” Marinette grinned.

“One of the times I’m glad my contract with Latina á Paris, won’t allow me too. I am merely a student there. Not a model.”

“My parents haven’t seen the photos yet. I still have them hidden away.”

“Too intimate to be framed?” Adrien’s bright green eyes dazzled her as he gave her a cheeky smirk.

“Perhaps the couple shots; I can’t exactly have a picture of my boyfriend kissing my breasts. But I’d like to get a few of us dancing on my wall.”

“You should definitely frame the shots of just you; you look so beautiful in those dresses.”

“I should put modelling put down in my CV.”

“Exceptionally talented _and_ absolutely gorgeous.”

Freckled cheeks were covered by a pretty pink blush once more and evergreen eyes sparkled with tender amusement. Then Marinette gave along doleful sigh. 

“We’ve been procrastinating long enough, I think.”

“You ready, Princess?”

“As I’ll ever be, Chatton.”

 

—————

 

So the two of them talked. Pushing aside their embarrassment they made an attempt to act as mature as possible. If anything, Tiki and Plagg were right. This was a topic that had to be discussed carefully. It wasn’t something that could be rushed or ignored. And Adrien confessed to Marinette about how wretched he felt with the whole thing. And Marinette could only kiss away his guilt. He had nothing to feel sorry for.

“I should have known.” Adrien said sadly.

“Hey - you didn’t hurt me. Nothing bad happened. We both wanted it.” She pressed gently, assuring him all was still well between them.

“But it could have happened.”

“We know that now. And now we learn to take steps. I talked with Tiki about it.”

“What did she say?”

“That I’m going to have to be the one that tells you to stop. I’m prepared for that responsibility, if it means keeping the both of us from doing things that we might regret later in the future.”

“And to keep you safe.”

“Not just me, Adrien.  _You,_ as well.” 

There was no malice in her words. Her voice was tender, understanding. Her lapis lazuli eyes, earnest and full of love. She was accepting him. Everything that he was, even the darker and more inhibited dangers of Chat Noir. And Adrien wasn’t sure if he could love her any more than he did now. And he loved her so much that it hurt sometimes.

“You _will_ tell me. Promise me, Marinette. You’ll keep me in control if these … _’urges’_ get too much.” He asked her, taking her hands.

“Nothing will happen. I know you, Adrien. You would never hurt me. And if something bad were to happen, we get through it together. We’ll fix it. Just like we’re doing now.”

“I’m just scared. Scared of hurting you.”

“I could hurt you too, as Ladybug.”

“But I’m dangerous as Chat. You know this. I know this.”

“Yes. I do. And it’s difficult to control that danger. That’s why I’ll be there to help you. We can get through this. One day at a time. I promise.”

Both of them were silent, Adrien weighing each word. Marinette had so much faith in him. It was humbling. Very humbling.

“We should just be us when we take that step.” Adrien said gently.

“Yeah. What Tiki said, made sense. It’s not like it wouldn’t be special if I was Ladybug and you were Chat but -”

“Safety comes first. We can’t be overwhelmed by what we feel because of our miraculous. And I don’t want it to just be about the sex.”

Marinette blushed once more when he said that; especially so casually. But she nodded in agreement. “Me too. I want to remember. I want to remember everything.”

“I guess that leaves us with the final question; when? Should we name a time and place? Or is it one of those things that we just let happen?”

“I … I don’t know.” she confessed quietly. “I don’t believe something like … um, _sex_ should be organised. But if we let it happen when it does, how do we know when it’s the right time?”

“Maybe it’s a feeling? Gut instinct. Knowing if you’re ready or not. And I know in the past weeks you _haven’t_ been ready for that. And to be honest neither have I. Despite everything; despite wanting, both of us felt it would be much better to wait.”

Marinette thought for a moment. “I guess you’re right. So maybe we should decide when _not_ to have our first time then. That way we set ourselves some definite boundaries until the moment’s right.”

“Sounds good.” Adrien smiled.

Marinette gave a soft laugh, another blush heating her freckled face. Honestly, she was beginning to wonder if she should powder her face an even paler shade, to keep the blushing at bay. “I can’t believe we’re having a conversation about sex.”

“You never had conversations about it when you were with Alya?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“No! I mean, Alya has a boyfriend. And talking about sex with her can get a little … how should I put this?”

“Graphic?”

“Wouldn’t say ‘graphic’ but she’s certainly more … _experienced_ in that department. It was a little awkward talking about it with her.”

“I understand. Honestly, it’s the same with Kim and Nino when I’m around them. Max is pretty private about his life. But Kim and Nino have as you call it - more ‘experience’. It was always awkward around them. Especially since, as a guy … most guys tend not to be virgins when they’re still twenty-one.”

“If you don’t mind me asking … what made you want to wait?” Marinette was genuinely curious. It didn’t surprise her that Adrien was still a virgin like she was. He was _that_ much of a gentleman. But she was also surprised at the same time.

Adrien gave her another smile, kissing her head softly. “The answer is simple. One; I was far too in love with Ladybug. It would have been like betraying her in every way I could possible imagine. I was completely devoted to falling in love with her, and giving her everything. Even my first time. Two … well, my mum and even my dad to some extent instilled some very specific ‘morals when I was fairly young. I’ve kept them ever since.”

“So no sex before marriage?”

Her boyfriend shook his head. “Wait until I’ve found and committed to the right person; to someone I know I’m going to love and be loved in return. Romantic? Definitely. But it’s how I was raised. And since I was so in love with Ladybug … or rather, _you,_ everything simply fell into place.”

“Same,” Marinette said shyly. “I mean, I was taught to have a lot of self respect. And to wait. And I’m so glad I did.”

Adrien caught her chin with his hand and he gently pulled her face towards his. They kissed softly for a moment, their lips tenderly brushing against one another. When they finally pulled apart, Adrien’s evergreen eyes had darkened and had started to smoulder in the dim light of his bedroom. And the warm familiar tingle stirred deep in Marinette’s abdomen; her heart pounding just that little bit more.

“Name a time and place when we definitely shouldn’t have sex, Mari.” He whispered against the corner of her mouth.

Her blush grew even more vivid around her cheeks, and she awkwardly played with the ends of her hair to distract herself. She had promised to be responsible. But Adrien was sitting far too close for that promise to be held.

“Leaving that one with me, Chat?”

He shrugged, giving her a gentle grin. “Ladies first. Besides, I want to make sure you’re comfortable.”

“What about you? That’s not entirely fair.” Marinette frowned a little at that. Adrien was a little too unselfish for her liking at times.

“My logic and reasoning is a little warped. I can’t be comfortable with something unless I know _you’re_ comfortable with it too.”

“But that’s the same with me.”

“Then we’re at an impasse. How about this? You name the time and place, Bugaboo. Then I’ll let you know if I’m comfortable or not with your decision.”

“You have to be honest with me, Adrien. Don’t do something just because it makes _me_ happy. I want you to be happy too.”

“I promise, Marinette.”

Marinette took a breath, thinking. She wanted their first time to be special, not rushed, not when they were stressed. It felt strange planning something that should happen naturally, but she had to be responsible.

“Well, I have my costume assessment and we have the performance around the same time. Actually, now that I think about it, the Ball is after my assessment. I was hoping to showcase our performance routine but we're not allowed to. It sucks that I got the dates wrong. I know I have all the progress documentation and video footage showing how I made the costume but still.”

“It's less than two weeks, now. But Mari, if you really want to do some sort of routine for your assessment, I can easily create a fairly simple routing, perhaps a minute long for you. It won't be too difficult to learn; I'll put in a couple of turns, some really awesome open and closed hand connections and holds, and a final dip but I'll keep the foot work simple. Will that be enough?”

"Would you, Adrien? You were always so good at doing choreography."

"Of course. I'll work on it tonight, after this."

Marinette was thoughtful for a moment, before she spoke. “We’re going to be so focused and perfecting our routine and me presenting and all. It ... I mean, um, our first night together, should be after the Ball then.”

“Definitely after the performance.”

“Problem is my parents are going to be home and Max and Kim will be here.”

Adrien chuckled. “Lack of privacy is certainly a problem. But-”

Her boyfriend trailed off, face suddenly thoughtful as a glow of opportunity began to shine in his beautiful eyes.

“What is it?” 

“After the ball there’s the After Party. It’s going to be held in a hotel. It goes on until morning. I was going to book a room and stay the night since there’s gonna be alcohol and I’d be too tired to drive home.”

It didn’t take long for Marinette to realise where Adrien was getting at. Not with the way he was looking at her, the intensity of his green gaze, piercing as if he could see right into her. Marinette stared at him, bluebell eyes going wide.

“Wait; are you suggesting ...”

Adrien reached up, taking her face into the palm of his hand, his thumb stroking her cheek. Brilliant eyes, bright green and vivid, just like a cat, stared into bright blue.

“Would you like to spend the night with me?” he asked softly.

The weight of every word made her heart hammer in her chest. She wanted this. And she knew he wanted it to. She had wanted this from the very beginning. All that was left was merely verbal confirmation. He needed her consent. And she was more than willing to give it; to give him everything just like he had promised her. 

Marinette nodded. “Yes. I’d love to spend the night with you.”

“Then it’s settled.”

“I’ll just have to mention it to my parents.”

“They’re bound to figure it out.”

The heated blush returned. _Be responsible;_ on a constant loop in her head.

“Just so you know - I mean I haven’t done anything with anyone. I mean, apart from ... um, you know, w-with you but ... I’m clean.”

Adrien smiled. She was just so adorable sometimes, even right down to the usual awkward moments. But even then, she was still looking out for him; assuring _him_ that it was okay and safe to be physically intimate with her. And he would treasure every moment.

“Same.”

“Should I - um … bring stuff?” She asked, a little embarrassed. Not enough to be completely mortifying but knowing that everything was finally settled, preparing was somewhat nerve-wracking.

Adrien softly kissed her cheek; the gesture a gentle assurance. “Leave that to me. All you need is change of clothes for the morning.”

“Thanks Adrien.”

“Can’t wait.”

 

—————

 

_Why am I here again? This was probably the worst idea I’ve ever come up with!_

Marinette groaned inwardly as she sat on one of the deep red velvet chairs provided in the changing rooms. She couldn’t deny that the shop was absolutely breathtaking. But it wasn’t one she often found herself in. In fact, it was the first time she had ever set foot in a lingerie shop. But Alya had practically dragged her through the shop entrance of _Honey Birdette_ , and forced her blushing friend to sit down and behave whilst she talked to one of the many attendants. Marinette struggled not to be intimidated by all of the very provocative items on display. She had never seen so much lace and straps in one place and any fabric that did exist was barely there. Secondly, the pricing of each item was starting to scare her. This was certainly a very upscale establishment. How could she even afford any of this stuff, let alone wear it?

“Oh would you stop moping! You body grind your boyfriend on a daily basis and _this_ makes you blush?” Alya asked her, coming back with several hangers full of lingerie sets.

Marinette could only gulp, her freckled face turning a vivid scarlet.

“I can’t wear any of this stuff!” She squeaked.

“ _You’re_ the one that called me, remember! Do you want my help or not?” Alya gave her the look. Marinette knew the ‘look’. And when she was given the ‘look’, arguing was never an option.

She gave a defeated sigh but nodded her head.

“I don’t think I have the confidence to wear this in front of Adrien. It’s a bit … much. And besides, I don’t want to come across as, _desperate_ or tarty.”

Marinette eyed the very skimpy silk and lace garments. They were certainly beautiful; true works of art. She couldn’t deny that. But still. Calling them ‘racy’ was an understatement.

“One, you could never be tarty. You’re so innocent it drives me insane and I’m so glad you’ve decided to pop your cherry soon with Adrien -” Alya began but Marinette gave a shriek.

“ALYA! NOT IN FRONT OF THE STAFF!”

“ _Sorry, sorry._ But as I was saying. You’re not wearing this for him. You’re wearing it for yourself. You don’t need to prove to him that you’re this sexy-ass goddess. I mean, not with someone like Adrien of all people. He’s practically Mr. Sap. But imagine the look on his face when he actually sees you in something like this! Don’t tell me you haven’t imagined it?”

Marinette had to look at her hands for that. Her face was just far too expressive. Alya didn’t need to be good at reading faces in order to extract the truth from her.

“Knew it!” 

Marinette could practically hear her wide grin.

“Stop looking so smug. You know how places like these make me uncomfortable.”

“Why? Because it’s just clothing. Clothing that heightens one’s sexuality?”

“You may have the curves and boobs for this stuff. I certainly don’t. And you’ve got this whole confident streak about you. I could never pull anything like this off. Not like you, at least. You’re this amazing confident woman. And I’m … well, _me_.”

Alya rolled her eyes and shoved several of the items she had chosen into Marinette’s trembling hands.

“Knowing you, I went down the road of classy and expensive vampiress. But I refuse to put you in white. It’s time to throw away that timid girl and bring out the smouldering temptress of a woman you are, whenever you dance. Oh … and these are all thongs.”

Marinette’s red face suddenly went bright red.

“Hey - you’re the one that was complaining you couldn’t find any set of pants in your wardrobe that would look fine under your after-party dress. I’m merely providing you with a solution.”

“Briefs! I want briefs or hip huggers! Or I’m walking out of this store and never coming back!” Marinette exclaimed frantically.

Alya only gave a angry grumble but went to get some more lingerie sets to appease her friend.

Marinette ended up trying on so many different things and the whole escapade was making her dizzy. The things she had been persuaded to try on were far to risqué for her liking, even if they were somewhat tasteful. The last black one she had tried had been adorned with shiny gold studs and harnesses. She certainly didn’t have the confidence to wear that! More than that it seemed impractical. She could barely take off the contraption let alone put it on.

The staff thankfully were helpful enough, coming up with suggestions here and there and helping her out of some of the more difficult lingerie sets. But Alya was ruthless. Everything seemed rather ridiculous and all Marinette wanted to do was to go home and sleep. She also had to be up early for her lecture tomorrow. And she had practice with Adrien later that day.

“Alya I don’t-” Marinette began, opting to just head home and try again some other time. But Alya wouldn’t hear of it.

“Don’t argue with me. This is the last one. I promise. Then we’ll go meet up with Jaxx once she finishes work.”

“No doubt you’ve been giving her the run down over WhatsApp every five minutes.” Marinette muttered under her breath.

“Oh shut up and try it on! And don’t even think of backing out of this one or I’m stripping you down and dressing you myself in the most suspect way I can manage.”

Not really paying much attention to what she was doing, she slipped the underwear on. Alya had purposely made Marinette wear her thinnest nude coloured underwear so she could try others without the hinderance of bulky fabric. It still felt a little odd but it was starting to become a mundane routine as well as a hopeless venture. There was nothing in this shop that would suit her, let alone make her comfortable enough to wear, regardless on how good she looked. She had honestly lost count on the number of things she had tried on.

“So? How does it look?!” Her best friend said, voice full of impatience.

“Hang on! Let me just fix the final clas-” Marinette began. Then she paused. Her eyes widened in genuine surprise for the first time she got in that damn changing room, finally catching the bluebell gaze of her reflection.

The underwear was indeed fairly lacy; a beautiful stretch of black and a deep royal purple; a sharp contrast against her creamy milky skin. But the colouring was surprisingly lovely. All together it was a fairly provocative but simple lingerie set, bra, briefs and matching suspenders that came with a set of sheer black stockings. Hooking the stockings into her suspenders, her legs looked long, slender and certainly more alluring with them on. The fabric was as soft and had slid over her legs easily.

There was no padding but the underwire in the bra had pushed her breasts upwards, making them fuller and far more tantelising. Turning around, her cheeks reddened when she realised the back of her tiny brief panties (if you could call them briefs!) were incredibly low; they were barely there. They were sheer too, matching the fabric of the stockings. The straps holding her briefs in place at the back met in the small of her lower back, in a very tiny and dainty bow of black ribbon, which had been adorned with a suspended purple jewel. Although probably just for decoration, it practically beckoned to be untied. Marinette’s blush deepened when she realised that said bow matched the others found on her front; one situated right between the valley of her breasts, another sitting quietly the top in the middle of her delicate panties, and the final two, attached to the ties of her suspenders. The thin collection of silken straps that draped over her body carefully, hugged her delicate curves, and she couldn’t help but marvel when she began to feel a strange stir of womanly confidence. It wasn’t unfamiliar. She had felt it before. Only when Adrien held her in his arms, his body moving her own, guiding her in a familiar and intimate dance. 

Marinette loved it. She actually loved what she was wearing. For what it was worth, although far more provocative to what she owned at home, it wasn’t over the top and overly adorned. It wasn’t complicated to put on thus it must have been fairly easy to take off too. And it suited her character. It was sexy, sultry but still elegant and feminine. And with this style, Marinette didn’t look as if she was desperate for something to happen. Still, she couldn’t deny her innermost desire to impress Adrien. In fact, she wanted to take his breath away. She wanted to be the most desirable person in his world. Not Ladybug. But Marinette. She wanted look beautiful and sexy as herself. Knowing this, would give her that bit of extra confidence on their first night together.

Hesitantly, she reached up, not really sure why. But she wanted to try. With a slow hand, she carefully pulled her hair tie out, letting her dark raven hair thick and lustrous, fall over her slender shoulders and down her bare neck. She pulled her shoulders back, pushing her head up ever so slightly, just like the way she did whenever she danced. And bluebell eyes that fixed the mirror with a dark sultry stare slowly went bright once again, with shy and genuine surprise.

“I … I think I’ve found the one.” Marinette fsaid, finally finding her voice.

“The one with the suspenders? Well, don’t leave us in … wait for it … _suspense_! See what I did there?” Alya said

Taking a deep breath, Marinette finally swept back the thick curtain.

Alya gazed at her friend with wide hazel highs. For a brief moment she couldn’t say anything. Then a slow foxy grin began to form on her face.

“So … success?” Marinette chuckled hesitantly.

Alya gave a low whistle. “You know I’m bi, right? You sure you want my opinion?”

“You thinking I look sexy is more than a compliment. Right now I feel kinda strange in this but I really like it. More than the others.”

“You’re going with the briefs then?”

“If you can call them that. There’s barely any fabric covering my butt at the moment.”

“Adrien is gonna blow his load the moment he lays eyes on you.”

Marinette cringed. “Not in front of the staff! They’re still in ears shot of us. And anyway, I’m hoping he’ll last longer than that … so do I for that matter.”

Alya gave her friend a smug shrug. “Whose to say you can’t have more than two or three rounds? Knowing you two with all that pent up frustration from your dirty dancing. But wouldn’t a thong be better? You are wearing a fairly tight dress.”

“I should be fine. These are really tiny briefs. And I’m a little more comfortable in them.”

“You are so getting those stockings too. Who cares about being in debt?”

“Well, I do for one. But I have to agree with you. I’m surprised at how much I like all of this.”

“See! I told you that you’d find your inner sex goddess.”

“I’m trying. But you know how bad I am at seducing people.”

“Pffft. Your ‘flirting’ consists of … _so Adrien … do you like bread?_ And what’s the point of flirting with the two of you? Both of you were humping each other the moment you-”

“ _ALYA!!!!!_ ”

“Okay, okay!” Alya gave a final grin before easing back a little on the teasing. Honestly, even in skimpy underwear, a fuming Marinette was as adorable as a tiny fluffy Pomeranian struggling to get up a flight of stairs.

“Anyway, I suggest you wear a pair of shit-kicking heels with them. Definitely black. Don’t distract from the colouring. The entire set is gorgeous on you.”

Marinette’s blue eyes narrowed. She could just see her best friend struggling to hold back. “I can see it in your eyes. You’ve got something else you want to say to me.”

“You know me too well. Of course I have something else to say! But does this mean I can give you my _honest_ opinion? As a bisexual-and-unfortunately-taken woman who would quite happily ravish you if you weren’t taken yourself as well as straight?”

Marinette rolled her eyes but finally gave a teasing grin. “Hey - I'm more than happy to go gay for you. If everything goes to shit with Adrien, you’re my back up plan. Providing things don’t go as planned with you and Nino.”

“We’ll get married, run away to some secluded location for a bit and have hot sexy-as-fuck lesbian smex.”

“I wonder how I’d explain that one to my parents.”

“The fact that their daughter ended up gay?”

Marinette shook her head. “No - the fact I didn’t end up jumping your bones sooner. But regardless of what they think; what do _you_ think about me in this?”

Alya paused for a moment. Then she looked at her dead in the eye.

“ _Damn bitch. You is fine!_ ”

And they burst into hysterical fits of laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI EVERYONE! I'M BACK! I'm so sorry for not updating! It's been a whole month! 
> 
> But i've been super busy! My parents have been visiting me for three to four weeks on holiday, work has been hectic, I graduated with a Bachelors of Design Honours from UNSW, and I went overseas for a brief period. So I haven't had any time to write! But I've slowly getting back into the swing of things and getting my inspirational writing cap back on! Here's a new chapter! Responsible adults being responsible!!!!
> 
> BTW: This is the underwear/lingerie set Marinette tried on in the chapter ... I for one would never buy something like this. Simply because I would rather spend my money on more appropriate things such as FOOD!!!!!
> 
> From Front:  
> https://hb-development.imgix.net/s/files/1/0585/9581/products/BRITTNEY_6_ef047b69-5ae6-41f1-9ffa-bcf408e0a862.jpg?v=1509928001&auto=compress,format&w=960&
> 
> These are the Briefs (yes ... they are briefs):  
> https://hb-development.imgix.net/s/files/1/0585/9581/products/BRITTNEY_12_2947aaf7-d8e4-46b1-a037-68cbcda9b6da.jpg?v=1509928001&auto=compress,format&w=960&


	50. Promises and Other Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This fanfiction is now rated Mature, thus is suitable for 'mature' audiences.

“So this is your last night here.”

“Seems so.”

“You have to leave in the morning?”

“Yup.”

“I wish you didn’t have to.”

“Me either.”

The two of them were laying together on the small bed at Alya’s studio. Nino was in a clean set of loose boxers and Alya had slipped a cotton nightgown over her head. It was late in the morning but neither of them really wanted to leave the bed. They had been spending a lot of time there together. Just the two of them. It was the one place where they could be alone without prying eyes from Alya’s family and sisters, and Nino’s roommates since his stay. 

“It’s going to feel strange without you. Lonely.”

“You have your job. Your Ladyblog.”

“I’ve actually toned that down a bit. Lost my enthusiasm, honestly. I mean, I keep people updated but since the last attack when … well, you know.”

“I do.” Nino said gently.

“Well, there have been no attacks since. It’s been fairly quiet. And I’ve been trying to change how I do and say things.”

“I’m not asking you to change. That’s not the woman I fell in love with.”

Alya blushed. “I know. I mean - a few things here in then. So we can make this relationship work.”

“You’re already trying so hard. It puts me to shame sometimes.”

“Wish I could do more?”

“Why? You’ve done so much? You don’t need to prove me anything? Or are you trying to prove yourself?” Nino asked, a disconcerted frown on his face.

Alya pushed her long hair out of her face, her eyes determined. “More than that. We made a promise to each other. We’re in for the long haul. But both of us made the decision to make this work. It’s going to be a long journey. And a tough one. But not matter what happens, we keep going.”

“Promise, huh?”

“It’s not so much proving to you or myself that I can make things work with you. I promise I’ll try my hardest so we can have an honest and open relationship.”

“And what kind of thing affected your promise exactly?”

Alya blushed a little, the colour lovely on her bronze coloured skin.

“A few things here and there. Nothing of importance.”

“Nope. Not gonna work.” Nino grinned. “What did you say about being honest with one another?”

Alya grumbled, the blush on her cheeks growing hotter by the minute. 

“Well, I promise not to jump into things without talking to you first; I need to listen more. Not just charge into things. Listening to other people is a good thing.”

Nino nodded, his grin softening, eyes going tender. “True. What else?”

“Not to be so … brash … or foul-mouthed.”

“Well … at least not when we’re in private. You can scream all the profanities you want, when you’re around me.”

“I promise, that no matter how hard it gets … never to close myself off. I should talk. I should talk to you; tell you how I feel. Otherwise, we’re back to square one.”

“Communication. Always a good thing.”

“And finally … I promise that after you leave … there’s not going to be anyone else. I’m going to be faithful to you, until we decide to start a family.”

“Faithful?” He urged gently.

“You know you don’t have to press for every little tiny detail.” 

“I want to hear it word for word.”

“What I’m saying is - there’s only you. You’re everything to me. I … I love you. And the sleeping around, that’s something I’m going to regret for the rest of my life. That’s not even really a promise. I’m never going to do that again. Once you leave, there isn’t going to be anyone else. I’m yours. And you’re mine. And since there’s only you now that means I- … wait. What’s with the look? What’s wrong?”

Nino eyes were staring at her intently. There was an unfathomable depth she couldn’t quite understand but the way he stared at her, his face full of so many emotions, it made her heart pound. It scared her a little too. She didn’t know why but it unnerved her. So she quickly looked at her hands, as she gripped at her nightgown.

“Stop staring at me. You’re making things really awkward. Or rather, more awkward than they already were.” Alya mumbled under her breath.

“Sorry. I can’t help it. Just hearing you say that …” Nino started quietly. “It’s made me so very happy.”

“And you weren’t happy before?”

“Apologies. Hearing that has made me the happiest I’ve ever been.”

“You’re confusing me. I don’t understand,”

Alya never looked up from her hands. If she had, she would have seen Nino fumbling around nervously in his back pack at the side of the bed.

“For the record, I dont’ want there to be any misunderstandings.” He said softly; tenderly even.

“Misunderstanding?” Now Nino was really beginning to scare her. What did _that_ mean?

Nino took a deep breath before exhaling slowly. 

“When you show your parents this, please emphasise that this is _not_ an engagement ring. I repeat. _Not_ and engagement. I really don’t want to get screamed at by your mom. Or your dad for that matter.”

Alya’s heart skipped in her chest, pausing mid beat as her breath hitched. Her head jerked upwards. And the world seemed to stop around her as hazel eyes were blow wide, as Nino turned back towards her.

“Nino … that isn’t a -”

But Alya never finished. For Nino was holding two beautiful matching silver rings in his hand; his face and his beautiful eyes full of emotion. 

“I hope you like it ‘cus I got two of them. One for me; one for you. Made sense.” He said a little awkwardly, voice low. He slipped the larger of the two rings on his ring finger; leaving just the one. Alya didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. Someone had taken her voice. Her ability to even think coherently. All she could do was bring her hands to her open mouth; she was left completely stunned, her heart now beating rabidly in her chest, causing beautiful blush on her face to spread all the way down her neck to her shoulders.

Very gently, Nino took one of her left hand. And he slipped the simple yet beautiful band onto her finger. The brightly polished surface seemed to glow in the morning light, the delicate tiny band of diamonds reminding her of glitter across her hands.

“As awkward as I am with words an everything, I’m going to try my hardest here. But Alya, hearing you promise me all those things … well it’s time I promised _you_ something. And Alya, I mean what say: you’re my entire world. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to start a family with you. I want to be your husband one day. And I want you to be my wife. It would make me so … _happy_. The happiest person in the entire universe.”

Alya’s gave a soft cry, choking behind her hands; her cheeks hot with fresh tears. _Husband._ Wait. Why was she shuddering? When had she started crying?!

“But I know I can’t tie you down just yet. I wouldn’t want that for someone who has the entire world at their feet. You have so many dreams. And I want you to chase them. Make every one of those dreams come true. And If you decide that you don’t want to be with me anymore during that time, I’ll let you go. I won’t hold you back. But I want you to know, its the same for me, Alya. There won’t be another for me. There’s only you. There can only be you. But if we keep going strong, if we both keep trying our hardest then I know we can make this work. I’ll wait for you, Alya. Only _this_ time, it’s a promise.”

Alya couldn’t stop crying. She had never felt this before; the love, elation, disbelief; so much unbearable happiness she couldn’t even handle it. Alya, the girl who could face anything, had finally been defeated. By the one man who had her heart in his hands.

“Happy?” He asked her hesitantly.

“Asshole.” She whispered.

Nino slumped, dejected.

“Why do you have to be so damn perfect?! It’s only going to be so much harder for me to see you leave now!” She wept. And she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, burying her face into his chest. She could only sob uncontrollably. Nino wrapped her tightly in his arms, laughing and crying at the same time.

“ _I love you so much, you tit! And now, I love you even more it hurts! Why do you have to do things like this?!_ ”

“Like you said, earlier. I’m an asshole. But I’m your asshole.”

 

—————

 

Marinette was running on autopilot. She was certain she was. That had to be the reason. Or some robotic mechanism had been lodged into her brain whilst she had been asleep. But in any case, she was exhausted. Absolutely exhausted. The short week that had gone by had been absolutely manic for her. 

Firstly, there was Nino’s going away dinner. All of them had met up at a pretty gorgeous restaurant, close to the Eiffel Tower to celebrate Nino’s final evening in Paris before he headed back to Monaco. Marinette was sad to see him leave. She didn’t know when he would be back. Adrien more so. As for Alya, Marinette could see that Alya was struggling. After everything that happened between her and Nino, things were just starting to get better and now he was leaving her again.

Still the night was pleasant, swapping old stories, funny memories and ending the evening on a high end with ice-cream and a walk down the Paris streets. Nino dropped Alya off home, and Marinette didn’t miss the glint of beautiful shiny silver that had adorned her best friend’s finger. She was certain that promise ring hadn’t been there a couple of days ago.

Adrien had stayed the night with her again. Not as himself. But like usual, a certain feline had crept quietly into her room. She never realised that she would have to be this close to him; she always felt the need to be in his presence constantly. Marinette wasn’t sure if it was her miraculous wrecking havoc on her emotions. But it still didn’t change the fact whenever she wasn’t near him, she felt this strange sense of loss. She felt incomplete and the distance hurt. And she didn’t like it. When she had mentioned it to Tiki, her kwami could only look at her sadly.

“Unfortunately, Ladybug’s feel the loss much more than other miraculous holders. They constantly need to feel that connection, to the point that they almost always have to be in the presence of Chat Noir.”

“When I’m away from him, it feels so lonely. But when I’m with him … when we _dance!_ I can’t even describe it. But it feels so right. Does it end? The loss?” Marinette asked her.

Tiki had given her a sad look, taking in her chosen ones mournful stance. 

“You learn to adapt. It’s something that never truly goes away. So I suggest you try and busy yourself. It’s going to be a fully hectic week. Concentrate on other tasks and consider your life and the things you did before your miraculous charms activated, binding the two of you together.”

Tiki had a point. Marinette had so many other things to worry about. Although she still felt sad and lonely, forcing herself to focus on other things, and keeping herself busy and efficient with her activities, almost obsessively, seemed to help.

So Marinette dutifully (and frantically) finished her costumes for her final elective assessment. When she completed her costumes faster than she expected, she refused to mope and feel that horrible empty loss; creating additional supporting research and development for her project.

Marinette was proud of her costumes. They had fit both her and Adrien perfectly, the intricate embroidery taking up most of the nights, leaving her absolutely exhausted every time she went into the studio to practice. Adrien had to practically drag her to his room at his shared apartment and force her to get a few hours sleep each time she saw him, otherwise she might keel over.

The progress of her costume shown in her film, as well as a montage of different instances from her practices in the weeks prior to her assessment, had been well put together, thanks to Alya’s help. When she finally presented to her classmates and tutors, her work had been had been well received by many of the tutors. There was a certain stigma with Latin dance costumes, especially performance ones. It was often they were seen as over the top, highly adorned scraps of fabric sewn together to create a highly revealing and somewhat inappropriate outfit. Marinette had wanted others to see past the initial shock and discomfort. And as a result her work had been described as evocative, original, having pushed the boundaries in dance costumes that reflected both the story and the essence of the dance style. When her final presentation had concluded, Marinette couldn’t help that she deserved High Distinctions from all five tutors assessing her.

Adrien had been there, on time and ready in his costume to dance, like her, and quickly capturing the eye of many female students. She had received additional marks for creating a ‘companion’ piece to her own costume. But a quick and surprisingly heated kiss in front of her entire classroom had quickly ended the topic of Adrien’s potential status as a bachelor. Marinette hadn’t had the time to react. She hadn’t been angry. She hadn’t been embarrassed when it happened. In fact, despite her exhaustion, she couldn’t help but feel smug, fixing all of the females in her class with a death stare, daring them to say something. Since she couldn’t debut let alone perform her final dance with Adrien until the evening of the show, which was that coming weekend, Adrien and her had quickly come up with a very short routine. It was a little over a minute and a half long, and along with her video, it was more than enough to showcase as well as demonstrate her costumes in action. They had practiced a couple of times in the days prior to ensure there were no mishaps and tearing, not just for her assessment but her final project too. But everything fit and done its job, perfectly. Marinette expressed with utmost vigour, that her costumes reflected a romance developed not just from intimacy and sensuality between two people. It was also created from a foundation of absolute trust and respect for each other, and most of all consent, when being in such a vulnerable situation. Although bachata was indeed a very provocative dance, without that respect, the connection and the true tenderness of that dance was destroyed; bachata itself would lose its true meaning. And when they danced, she simply forgot everyone else, enjoying the tender sensual movement of Adrien’s body swaying and rolling against hers.

When Marinette finally made it home, carefully hand-washing, drying and placing her prized costumes on her mannequins, she tumbled into her roughly made bed and was asleep in minutes. She had left her skylight open. 

Chat Noir quietly slinked his way into her bedroom and he found he didn’t have it in his heart to wake her. She was so pale, too pale, her cheeks sallow and the shadows under her eyes dark and bruised. She was more than exhausted. She was more than absolutely drained. All of the energy she had used during their dance showcase had been based on adrenaline. Marinette needed to sleep. And Chat Noir couldn’t deny her that. She needed as much rest as possible until their performance that Saturday evening. 

So Chat Noir nestled down beside her, bringing the sleeping girl into his arms, protectively encasing her in his warmth. Like Marinette, he slept soundlessly.

When she woke the next morning, she wasn’t really surprised to find herself wrapped in Chat’s arms. Or rather, Adrien’s arms. He had transformed back during the night, his hair nothing but golden tousled bed head. His tiny black cat kwami, was snoring on his head, along with Tiki.

Marinette giggled softly. Adrien was so beautiful and he looked so funny at that moment. He never opened his eyes. But she watched the corners of his mouth twist upwards into a playful smirk.

“Good morning.” She said with a smile.

Adrien pressed a gentle kiss to her lips before his smirk softened.

“Morning. Did you sleep well?” He didn’t raise his voice. Tiki and Plagg were still asleep after all.

“The first solid twelve hours in the past few days, thankfully.”

“Good. You needed the sleep. It’s almost the ball.”

“I’m pretty excited, actually. I’m sad Nino can’t be there to watch.”

“Same. But Alya is going to film it for him. As well as the other performances. It’s going to streamed live.”

“Have you ever performed for something like this?”

“Just for shoots. And a couple of impromptu performances at the studio during Social Nights. Won a nice bottle of wine once. But never for an actual event. This is the most professional thing I’ve ever done. I’m actually pretty nervous.”

“Nervous! How can you be? You’re so good! Your technique is amazing! And you’re always so confident!”

“I could say the same about you, Mari.”

Marinette flushed. “I’m not nearly as good as a dancer as you are.”

“Modelling isn't the same as dancing. All I do … well, before I signed a contract with Stüdaria, my job pretty much entailed standing around, posing. No talent necessary, if I have to be honest.”

“That’s not true!” Marinette exclaimed a little too loudly and Adrien hushed her quickly, his green eyes twinkling.

“Shhh, Marinette. The cat and the bug are still catching flies on my head.”

“S-sorry! What I’m trying to say is - you’ve always had this … confidence about you. As yourself. As Chat. Something that I never had, when I was in school.”

Adrien had to scoff a little. “You’re kidding, right? I fell in love with Ladybug _because_ of the confidence and this steadfast determination she glowed wherever she went. She didn’t even have to try!”

“That was because I was Ladybug. As Marinette I’m-”

“The most incredible person I’ve ever known. You’re my partner in all things. My best friend. My girlfriend.”

“You’re such a dork.”

“You love me, Princess,”

But before Marinette could reply a tiny groan sounded from the top of Adrien’s head.

“Oh please! This mushy talk is gonna make me throw up …”

“ _Plagg!_ ” Tiki complained.

Marinette and Adrien could only laugh.

“So have you asked them yet?” Adrien asked quietly.

“About me staying with you for the night?”

“Yeah.”

“Urgh! I know where this is going!” Plagg complained, the tiny cat now completely awake.

“If you don’t want to hear then leave the room. And anyways, you were the one that gave me a hiding for not being responsible. And now, we are.” Adrien said, rolling his eyes.

“Come on, Plagg, we’ll go wait outside until they’re finished talking.”

Marinette and Adrien watched the tiny kwamis flit to and fro, a trail of magical coloured light trailing behind them as they flew upwards and out the skylight above the bunkbed.

Marientte finally turned, her freckled face tinged soft pink.

“I’m going to tell them, today.”

Adrien gave a slight but equally breath-taking smile. “You’re not even going to ask?”

“No. It’s my decision. One I’m not going to regret. They’re not going to talk me out of it.”

“You know you’re going to get another whole, ‘be responsible’ talk, with them.”

Marinette shuddered. “I’m gonna tell my mother. Though my dad’s usually the cool one, there’s no way I’m going to discuss sex other stuff, with him.”

Adrien had to laugh at the way her nose scrunched, as Marinette cringed.

“Understandable. You think your mother’s going to react badly?”

“Adrien. I’m twenty-one. Not sixteen. I’m a fully consenting adult.”

“To them you’re still their daughter; their little girl. That's saying something. They’re always going to be protective over you.”

Marinette went quite for a moment, mulling over Adrien’s words before she gave a sad sigh, face pained.

“I just wish …”

“Wish what? What’s wrong?”

“I wish it … it was like that with your dad.”

Adrien said nothing. Though his face was unreadable, she knew better. There was a darkness in those evergreen eyes that spoke to her.

“I’m sorry.” Marinette said quietly.

“Don’t be Mari. It’s okay. Or rather. It’s okay now. It’s in the past. I left that life behind. A life that I think would have actually killed me had I not left. And now I’m here. With you. _That’s_ saying something.”

Marinette eyes shone with warmth. “Even when we were in school you always tried to see the silver lining; you always made the best out of things.”

“Well - _you_ made everything so much more worth while.”

Marientte leaned in to kiss Adrien softly. A kiss he happily returned.

“I don’t feel like getting up any time soon.” She murmured against his lips. Her hands slowly found the way to his shirt, fingers gripping at the fabric.

Adrien chuckled, before moving to bury his face into the crook of her neck. The cat in him couldn’t resist and he lightly nipped at the silken skin with his teeth, before soothing the same spot with ardent kisses. She gave a small yelp in surprise.

“Me neither. How long and how far can we go with making out before Plagg becomes a cock-block?”

Marinette raised an eyebrow, thinking hard for a moment.

“Perhaps when we remove the top half of our clothing?”

Adrien shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”

And he quickly captured her lips once more in a heated kiss.

 

—————

 

Nerves gripping and twisting into tight knots in her stomach, Marinette finally stepped into the kitchen where her mother was washing the dishes.

“Uh … maman? Can I talk to you about something?”

“What is it Marinette?” She gave a quick glance at her daughter. 

Marinette took a breath. She just needed to say it.

“I just wanted to let you know that um … when the After Party finishes, I’ll be checking into a hotel. It will be easier to just find a place to stay the night rather than travel back home in the early hours of the morning.”

“Well, that’s all well and fine but-” her mother began but her daughter quickly cit her off.

“I’ll be staying with Adrien.” She finished quickly.

Sabine suddenly went silent. The she gently set the dishes she had been cleaning down onto the countertop. She wiped her hands without saying a word. Then she turned to her daughter.

“I think I know where this is going.”

Marinette blushed but nodded, looking at her hands.

“For the record, just be thankful your father isn’t here.”

Marinette blushed a bright pink but gave another quick nod. Her mother gestured for her to sit down at the counter top.

“So. You’re going to spend the night with Adrien?”

“Y-yes.”

“Are you ready?”

_Wait, huh?_ What did her mother mean by ready? No angry rant? No shocked denial? Her mother was acting far too nonchalant for her liking.

“I … Ready?”

“Ready to take this step. It’s obvious you’ve made up your mind. And regardless on how I feel, you’re twenty-one. An adult who makes her own decisions now. I can’t stop you from making them. More than that, I can see by your expression that this isn’t just a spur of the moment thing. You’ve actually taken the time and discussed this with Adrien, haven’t you.”

“Yes, maman.”

“So I’m going to ask you, just one more time. As your mother who has the right to still be concerned. Are you sure you’re ready?”

Marinette stopped looking at her hands, gazing into her mother’s eyes.

“Yes. I’m ready. Adrien and I … both of us want this.”

Sabine gave a slow accepting nod.

“Well, if you’re planning on being intimate with him then please use protection. That’s all I ask. Make sure to check beforehand; that there are no rips in the condom.”

“How do you know we’ll use condoms?” Marinette said before realising what she just came out of her mouth. The blush on her face went from pink to bright scarlet in the space of a second.

“I know you’re not on the pill, you’ve never needed to be since I know you’re fairly regular with your menstrual cycle. I suggest if you plan on being intimate with Adrien from now on, you should start.”

“I know. I’ve been looking into it. I’m going to go to the doctors after that, so I can discuss options with them.”

“But Marinette,” her mother said, her tone low and serious, “If you feel you’re not ready, even if Adrien should pressure, you don’t have to anything you aren’t physically or emotionally prepared for. This _is_ a fairly big step in your relationship. In any case you haven’t even been dating for very long.”

_Adrien, pressuring her?_ Marinette guiltily remembered Tiki’s conversation about Chat’s power and needs. She had made a promise; she would be the one to stop if things went bad.

“I know maman. But we’ve known each other for a very long time though. And we did talk about it. A lot. We wanted to wait until the right moment. For the right environment, until both of us were emotionally ready for it.”

Her mother raised an eyebrow, eyes inquisitive.

Marinette blushed again. The embarrassment hadn’t gone away completely but she was getting things out in the open. It was best to be honest.

“Yeah. I mean, we wanted to wait. I guess, Adrien wanted to make sure I was comfortable first, and he’s never pressured me into something I didn’t like. The same goes with me towards him. And well … I feel like the evening after the performance is going to be the right time. I mean … it’s how _both_ of us feel.”

Marinette took a deep breath before finally giving her mother a determined gaze. “This isn’t something I’m going to regret. I wanted to let you know that this is how I feel. It’s what I want. I’m going to spend the night with Adrien.”

Her mother gave a slight smile before getting back to the washing.

“Thank you for telling me, dear. Just let us know that you and Adrien have arrived at the hotel safely.’

“Wait. You’re okay with this? Like, really?.”

“Why should I be angry at you? This is your decision. I can’t stop you. And it’s not like you’re doing something exceptionally stupid, despite it being a really big step in your relationship. And it isn’t my decision to make. But like I said, use protection … Well, until your father and I want grandchildren.”

“ _Mom!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I really REALLY need to get my act together and get this fanfiction finished! It's just being an adult is killing me right now ... that and design portfolio and job applications drive me crazy. URGHHHH! But good news, I've already started the next chapter.
> 
> Sorry for keeping your guys waiting! In any case ... have some more DJWifi adorableness.
> 
> These are the promise rings Nino bought them:  
> http://www.idream-jewelry.com/images/rings/matching_promise_rings_for_him_her.jpg


	51. The Annual Ball - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This fanfiction is now rated Mature, thus is suitable for 'mature' audiences.

Marinette was nervous. She was excited. She was anxious. Absolutely elated. She was so many emotions all at once. She couldn't keep up with them. Tonight was the night. _The_ night! The night of the actual Annual Ball! Had it really been a little over two months? So much had happened in that time. Sometimes the weeks had dragged on; a seemingly endless and weary eternity. But at the same time, the days and nights had gone by so fast, Marinette had barely managed to keep up with them.

As she packed her clothes and costume for tonight, Marinette reminisced of all the things that had happened. There were somethings that she did regret. But only a couple. The rest of it; she was more than happy with how things had turned out. 

Adrien was her boyfriend for one thing. In the two months she had started dancing at Latina á Paris, Adrien had become her partner. Not just on the dance floor. She had also fallen in love with her best friend and closest companion Chat Noir at the same time. Something she had never expected. And she certainly hadn’t expected that her beloved Chat Noir was the one man she had loved since she was fifteen years old. So many things had happened. Bad. Wonderful. Strange. Incredible. But Marinette wouldn’t have changed a single thing. It was because of all those different things; the strange hurdles and the hard obstacles that she had had to face, that got her to where she was now. It had been a difficult and very unassuming experience. She couldn’t call it a journey. Not just yet. Marinette knew it had barely even started.

The sun was starting to set as Marinette gathered her things. Alya was picking her up soon to take her to the venue. She had to be there an hour early at the least. 

Very carefully she placed her undergarments in a small canvas bag before putting them in a large sports bag, which also had her dance shoes (and another pair just in case), makeup, toiletries and a change of clothes. She didn’t want to get them ruined. They were indeed beautiful. A beautiful and sure reminder of what was to happen. Not to mention expensive. Marinette had practically sobbed as she mentally calculated how many days of work would cover for the cost of her new lingerie.

She was nervous. Perhaps even more so despite her performance tonight. She couldn’t deny that. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t already been intimate with Adrien. She knew what to expect. But she had never been with anyone. What if she wasn’t ready? What if Adrien wasn’t? What if both of them freaked out at the last minute? Though she highly doubted that would happen, the notion was still more than daunting. In fact the nerves made her sick in the stomach. An there was the second-guessing herself about her underwear. What if Adrien didn’t like it on her? What if he thought it far too voluptuous or worse … _skanky?!_ She wouldn’t hear the end of it. 

But after a brief moment of panic, Marinette finally put her foot down and scolded herself. 

_No!_ Adrien wouldn’t think that of her. He would never make her feel disgusted with herself. Adrien did the exact opposite whenever they were together. He made her feel beautiful. He made her feel wanted; sexy. More than that. Whenever he made her feel that way; she was never ever ashamed of it. Maybe a little embarrassed but never ashamed. He even said to her that there was nothing wrong with what she felt; that it was okay to feel wanted, and to feel beautiful. And the provocative yet stunningly gorgeous underwear she had bought strangely made her feel that way. 

With her bag finally packed she finally turned her attention to her costume. It was was carefully attached to a hanger, covered by plastic; she didn’t want it to get creased. Adrien’s costume was with him. 

Marinette gave a knowing and shy smile. She and Adrien had been practicing constantly for this moment; tonight they would dance and tell their story. The soft pink and the intricate embroidery of blackwork was all her. No one else could wear it. This dress had been designed for Marinette. It was a physical manifestation of who she was; of what she had become. As for Adrien’s costume; Marinette couldn’t help but blush at the very obvious hint towards her favourite black-clad feline.

What would people get from watching their performance tonight? She only hoped they wouldn’t think it too cliché though Adrien had teased her that a seductive and beautiful dance between a handsome and mysterious hero of the night and a beautiful and innocent civilian, was perfect fodder for fanfiction. Who couldn’t love a good old steamy romance? When Marinette had enquired about ‘said’ fan fiction, Adrien had merely shrugged, simply stating the Ladyblog was a dangerous place; worse than Tumblr. And Marinette had to laugh.

“Are you excited?” Tiki asked.

“Of course, Tiki! The actual event is being held right at the Arc du Triomphe, right under it apparently! From what Julio has told us, they’re sectioning off the entire space and there’s going to be a raised platform so everyone can watch from all sides. It’s going to be a really big event, apparently with some of the most prestigious latin dancers are coming to watch _and_ perform. Alya is going to live stream the entire event so my parents can watch it at home. There’s going to be social dancing, food, drinks, live music and the best DJ’s. It’s sad Nino can’t be here. I wish he could have joined us tonight. But it’s really exciting.”

“I hope there will be no mishaps with your costume.”

“I checked Tiki and did another quick sew for everything just in case. But I’m bringing another leotard in case something _really_ goes wrong.”

”You’re not changing into your costume yet?”

“Not until a fifteen minutes before the actual performances are scheduled to start. There’s an hour of social dancing and drinks first and then a few speeches and then the performances. But the Advanced Teams perform last.”

“What’s the order of the performances?”

“Beginners Group Performance, followed by the Intermediate Teams and the Intermediate Ladies Shines and Mens Shines. There are also Solo Shines. Then finally it’s the couples. Like a closing ceremony. We’re the second last to perform. So a fair while. I just hope nothing bad happens until then. Adrien and I have been practicing so hard. And I really don’t want that work to go to waste. I auditioned and I was specifically chosen to be an advanced couple. That’s a big responsibility, Tiki. Especially since I’m representing the studio and everyone will be watching. I have to make everyone proud. I have to perform tonight and I have to perform the best that I ever have.”

“You will Marinette! You and Adrien have done so much to get here. Hopefully nothing bad will happen. Just try to be careful in your heels. You know how clumsy you can get.”

“Actually I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to deal with an akuma tonight but ending up with a twisted ankle before I’m about to go onstage is pretty bad. And ironic. I’m going to wear my flat canvas shoes until the performance. Just to be on the safe side.”

“I didn’t think that tonight’s event would be so big.”

“Well, when you think ‘big’; it’s really important in the Latin Dance community. But yes. It’s the biggest in France. I had no idea until Julio told us a few days ago, which only makes this even more nerve-wracking!”

“You’ll do wonderfully, Marinette. You’ll also have so much fun! And Plagg and I will watch from the sidelines cheering you on.”

“Thanks, Tiki. I need all the luck I can get.”

“But Marinette, if this Ball goes well into the early hours of the morning, why isn’t the After Party just held at the event? There’s already going to be music and dancing, there. Why make it a separate place and at the same time as the event?”

“That’s what I thought but Jaxx told me the After Party is restricted to performers and people that work at the studio. We’re given the option to stay at the Ball, or leave for the After Party. It’s sort of like a celebratory meet-up, in honour of the event. It’s a very private. No one that isn’t a member of the studio or hasn’t performed can attend. You know how the Annual Ball is a very media-orientated event - more than I anticipated actually, they’ve made this event as a way for those that had performed to get some privacy. Out of the limelight. No cameras. No interviews. So it’s going to be a lot more relaxed; more social. There’s still going to be a lot of people as there are so many individuals are performing tonight. But I’m really happy that they made this. Not that staying at the Ball wouldn’t have been fun but I’ve always like smaller, more intimate gatherings. And it will be easier to converse with people too.”

“But you’ll still get to dance at the Ball?”

Marinette nodded. “Yeah - I'm not missing out on the experience. And I perform last, anyway. But I feel the opportunity of dancing with people I know and trust, will be better at the party.”

“And there’s no media coverage.”

Marinette nodded. “Strictly, no cameras allowed; for filming, photography or otherwise. I can actually enjoy dancing with Adrien without having to worry someone’s going to stick a large camera into my face. And best of all, this hotel is _really_ fancy. I don’t know if I’m excited for the Ball or for the Party, more.”

“Marinette! Alya’s here to pick you up. Do you have everything?” Her mother called from downstairs.

“Coming!”

Marinette slung her duffle bag over her shoulder, with Tiki quickly hiding in one of the very large pockets. Very carefully, she picked up her costume for tonight. Alya was waiting for her, dressed smartly in black pants, black trainers and a black t-shirt with the Latin á Paris logo printed carefully in gold across the front; her face painted with stylish but very functional make-up. Her best friend’s long luscious hair had also been tied back in a thick ponytail.

“Ready girl?”

“As I’ll ever be.” Marinette smiled.

“Knock ‘em dead, sweetheart! Make us proud! And Alya, I want the best of the best filming from you! Get our daughter’s good side!” Tom said, giving his daughter a quick hug. Sabine also hugged her daughter.

“Will do, Monsieur Dupain-Cheng.” 

Sabine thrust a little silken pouch into Marinette’s hands. Her daughter stared at the unexpected gift with curiosity in her eyes.

“A good luck charm. And it will go with your costume. Open it when you get to the event.”

“Thank you mama.” Marinette gave her mother one more hug before heading out the door.

_“Good luck!”_

 

\-----

 

The drive was pleasant and Alda’s bubbly excitement, calmed Marinette’s nerves. And since it was just the two of them, Marinette decided now would be the best opportunity to ask about the shining silver ring that adorned Alya’s ring finger.

“So … Nino gave you that?” She had asked her best friend.

“It’s not an engagement ring. Well - not yet anyway.”

“I kinda guessed. But you two are really in for the long haul. Did you expect that from him?”

Alya was smiling as she drove; they were only fifteen minutes away but Alya had to park in a separate area, at the back of the venue, where all of the staff and performers were. “Nope. Not in the slightest.”

“It’s good to see you like this. So positive. I’m glad you’re finally happy.”

Alya couldn’t agree more. 

As they neared the Arc du Triomphe, Marinette marvelled at how it looked like at night; the amazing monument bathed in a golden yellow. But there were spotlights everywhere, dancing to and fro. With the windows down she could hear the music, and the chatter. And their were banners and billboards everywhere welcoming the guests and performers tonight and … 

“ _Holy shit!_ I knew they were going to do promotional stuff but I didn’t know they were going to do _that!_ ” Marinette’s eyes went wide as saucers when the largest and most central banners finally came into view, her cheeks turning the brightest of pink.

“Me either.” Alya said, equally stunned. “Though … I have to say, your breasts look scrumptious in that.”

“Not helping.”

Hanging from the very top of the Arc du Triomphe, the main banner fell until it reached mid way down the giant structure, several spotlights illuminating it from below. At the bottom of the banner, in fine elegant script: _Welcome to Latina á Paris’s Annual Ball; a night of passion and romance._ But it was the subject matter of that banner Marinette couldn’t tear her gaze from. It was a blown up photograph in black and white; of two dancers incredibly close in provocative hold, the male dancer pressing his partner against a brick wall, as her thigh and leg wrapped around his waist to reveal her vivid scarlet dance shoes, their lips barely brushing, about to kiss, eyes heated and full of longing. It was a photograph Adrien and her from the shoot. 

“If that’s just for the banners; I can’t wait to see what tonight’s events catalogue and fashion magazine is going to be like.” Alya murmured as they neared the ‘restricted area’.

“My parents are gonna kill me!” She groaned, burying her face in her hands. All of her previous excitement and nerves had quickly dissipated; replaced by a sudden overwhelming need to go home and hide under the covers of her bed, and never come out.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, it’s a really good photograph. Truly. In fact - it’s really beautiful and this is me answering as the Media Student with a Minor in Photography.”

“You mean the Minor that wanted to make you rub a cheese grater across your head?”

“Don’t change the subject. Though now that you mention it, my tutor was an arsehole! Art is subjective! But yes. I would kill to be able to create something like that, especially on _that_ level. The whole shot is so beautifully done. And you both of you look stunning.”

Marinette gave a small smile. Coming from Alya, it was surprisingly comforting. “Thanks Alya.”

“And since it features not only two of the performers but students from the main studio hosting this whole shebang, it will give tonight’s event and the studio the publicity it really needs, especially since it’s Adrien. Maybe even international coverage. And you never know. Perhaps people will start scouting you out as a model.”

Marinette gave her friend a look, a bit of concern welling her her stomach. Though the last part didn’t go over her head, she didn’t like“International? Wait … will this affect Adrien in anyway? I mean, I know he’s officially left the Agreste brand but will this cause any issues?”

Alya gave her friend a slight smile as they pulled towards the driveway. “Don’t worry. Adrien’s agents are really good at keeping everything in order. Adrien wouldn’t have taken the job for this shoot if he knew that there could be controversy, especially with him and his dad. Not that Gabriel Agreste would be the one to make anything out of it. He’s far too professional and scared of his image to do that. Or maybe it’s the stick up his ass. But if he were to do something that would potentially damage Adrien’s career as a model, Adrien has the right to sue him. If anything, I think this is more of a kick in the crotch; sort of payback for three years of torment. And Adrien’s left the Agreste brand for quite a while now. There really shouldn’t be a problem. But I don’t think he expected the biggest and most prominent piece of advertisement that’s being displayed tonight, would be a picture of the both of you.”

“You’re telling me. This is going to be so awkward. I’m not even thinking about what my parents … especially my dad, are going to say to me after this.”

“Embarrassing? Girl; you’re about to body grind your asses off in front of hundreds of people tonight. The whole world is going to see that you’re a couple now, if they hadn’t known already. Wish I could see Chloe Bourgeois; face! She’s going to be screaming at some socialite party when she sees this on television.”

Marinette had to giggle at that. “I’m too low in her social circles. She’d never associate with someone like me.”

“And now she knows, Adrien’s definitely out of the picture. Look at it this way. With all this publicity, people know, Adrien is no longer an eligible bachelor. And you happen to be the lucky girl that’s going to be screwing him senselesstonight!”

“Shhh! Alya! Not so loud!” Marinette said with a blush.

“Hey - enjoy yourself. I’m not saying this to be crude. I really mean it. I know both of you really want this. So make the most out of it.”

“You know what it’s like. Care for some pointers. I’m actually really nervous. I honestly don’t know what to think or do.”

“My advice: one - focus on the competition first. That’s the only thing you have to worry about right now. Nothing else matters. You’re here to dance for the studio and everybody is going to be watching you. Nothing else should matter beyond that point.”

“Right.”

“After that, honestly. You already know what it’s like to be intimate with Adrien. You should just be yourself.”

“Really?”

“The first time can be a bit awkward but that’s what makes it fun. You’re both going through the same thing; experiencing the same emotions. That’s what makes it special. Both of you are learning, and for the very first time you actually get to feel what it’s like to be with someone in the most complete way possible.”

Marinette blushed a bit more but she gave her friend a smile when they finally pulled up to park. “Thanks Alya.”

“What are friends for?”

Marinette shrugged. “Lesbian sex?”

“Well- … yes! Okay. That too. But I’m a promised woman now. Dammit.”

“Sigh. We know for next time.”

Both girls laughed when they finally got out the car. As they walked towards the back entrance, she recognised several people from the studio. She also saw some familiar faces from social nights.

Adrien was waiting for her, dressed smartly in dark jeans and a button down white shirt, his overnight bag and costume over his shoulder.

“I’ve got to head over where the rest of the film crew are.”

“Sure thing. I’ll see you later when we perform.”

Marinette and Alya hugged before they parted ways.

“Hey, Mari.” Adrien smiled, bending down to kiss her gently.

“Hey yourself, kitty.” She murmured against his lips. “You see the giant blow-up banner at the entrance?”

Adrien had the grace to look sheepish, bright green eyes going shy with embarrassment; his cheeks colouring into a delightful pink.

“Sorry if it’s a bit … much. And this is after when I told them to choose another photograph and tone it down. I hope it doesn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“Good luck explaining that one to my parents.”

“We still have the costume catalogue and numbers promotional photographs that are going to be advertised everywhere.’ Adrien warned her.

Marientte shrugged. “It doesn’t bother me as much as I thought it did. I signed up for it. I knew what I was getting into. Just … _my parents!_ ”

Adrien mocked shuddered. “And I’ll be the one that has to deal with them.”

“True.”

“Ready for tonight?”

“Yeah. Or as ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s hope no akumas show up.” Marinette crossed her figures. For once, she hoped her Miraculous Ladybug powers would keep up throughout the night. Ladybugs were supposed to be lucky after all. 

Adrien rolled his eyes as he took her hand, leading her inside the black pop-up tents. 

“Me too. I just want tonight to be about us.”

“Same. We’re here to perform our very best. We’ve worked so hard.”

She could practically hear the smirk gracing his face. “Well that too. I meant afterwards.”

Marinette blushed; her face warming.

“Remember. I’ve booked a room at the hotel room. No rush heading home tonight.”

“Y-yeah.”

“Nervous?” His voice was warm. He was genuinely curious.

“Nervous. Excited. Both at the same time. Scared. I’ve never done this before.” She confessed.

Adrien only replied by giving her hand a reassuring and loving squeeze; he held her hand tightly as they made their way to the dance and performance space.

There were so many people. Marinette lost track of them all as they pushed their way towards the dressing rooms. Adrien deftly moved through the throng, keeping Marinette close. The event space right beneath the Arc du Triomphe was a breathtaking sight to behold. There was golden spotlight everywhere, and silk banners in deep crimson and black were suspended too and fro in intricate and elegant weaves. A very expensive looking bar to the far right of the central space and directly opposite the elaborate costumes and shoes on display and ready to be bought, accompanied by the studio merchandise. Marinette made a quick mental note to have a look at everything before she left the event tonight. The entire concrete floor had been covered by wooden platforms, ideal for dancing and in the very central space, stood a raised, black covered platform for tonight’s performances. With no ‘back-stage’ or curtains to walk on, allowing the entire audience a three-sixty view of the performers. 

On the way, she accidentally bumped into someone.

“Oh! Sorry!” She said bashfully, struggling to keep up with Adrien.

“Not a problem.”

She didn’t really get a good look at the man. He was tall. And practically standing in her way. He wouldn’t move aside. And for some reason, that bothered her. So did his voice. But she couldn’t pin point why. And he was blocking her view of Adrien. And the distance caused her stomach to squeeze in an uncomfortable knot.

“Um, I have to keep up with my boyfriend. Sorry.” And she made a quick bee-line around him.

“You okay. That guy didn’t cause you trouble did he?” Adrien said, eyeing at the man. But Marinette was too preoccupied with making sure her costume didn’t touch the floor. 

“Yeah. It’s fine.” Or rather, she brushed it off as fine. “I just didn’t expect there to be so many people.” 

Marinette’s eyes were darting too and fro from person to person, dressed to the nines and in their best dancing shoes.

“You said it, Mari.” Adrien guided her through the rest masses; the air thick with music and body heat. People were darting past, preoccupied with either getting drinks, looking at the merchandise available, or spinning and swapping past her as they danced on the wooden floor. Doing her best to keep up, Marinette, followed her boyfriend to a restricted area, hidden away by a black tent.

“I wonder how many people are going to stay here tonight?”

“Those performing? I know a few are. They’ll probably head to the party later. But the majority of us from the studio are going; Lance and Jaxx included. I personally don’t like really large events like this.”

“A bit over the top?”

“Yeah. Plus the media. I just want to spend the rest of the pleasant evening dancing with my girlfriend, without having to deal with the public eye.”

“I understand.” Marinate empathised. “I prefer smaller events too. It’s so much easier to talk to people. And I’ll be dancing with people I know.”

“That too.”

“So what do we do now until the performances?”

“I suppose mingle, but Julio’s told us we have to keep dancing to a minimum; so we don’t wear ourselves out or end up in an accident.”

Marinette made a face. “Knowing me … it’s probably going to happen.”

“Hey - I’ll be there to make sure that _doesn’t_ happen.”

“Thanks.” She said and heaved a sigh of relief when they finally made it to the other side of the venue, where the make-shift dressing rooms were. She was more than thankful that her costume hadn’t been ruined from the trip. Marinette had practically smothered it to her chest, along with her clothes bag. Although she could still hear the noise outside, shutting away the world outside, helped gather her composure. She could actually breathe again. There were several performers putting their belongings in the lockers provided; some of them prepping for performances, warming up their limbs, others, donning their elaborate and sparkly costumes.

“Did I forget to mention you look lovely?”

Marinate blushed. She was only wearing black leggings and a floaty white top, cinched at the waist with a thin belt. She had tied her hair back, in order for it to be styled later. And the only makeup she was wearing was foundation. How could that be considered ‘lovely’?

“Not really.” She mumbled.

Marinette dumped her stuff into the same locker Adrien was using; hanging her costume up alongside his.

“What’s the password, so I can get dressed - I’m bound to take longer than you with the makeup and everything.”

“Your birthday.”

“I … wait … when did I … I don’t think I ever told you about that!”

“One; a good boyfriend has his ways. Two; your parents are a great source of information.”

“O-oh. I hope that’s all they told you.”

“Unfortunately for me, no embarrassing stories about what little Marinette was like in her younger days but I’m working on it.”

“Please no.”

“Damn.”

Most people had left. But a few remained. Marinette took out her shoes and sat down to put them on.

“I need to pick up the registration passes. So put on your shoes and-”

“Oh you can go on ahead. I’ll be out in a moment.”

Adrien looked doubtful. “There are a lot of people here, Mari. I don’t-”

“I’ll be fine.”

Adrien leaned forward to give Marinette a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I’ll meet you at the entrance of the tent when I’m done.”

Adrien left, leaving Marinette began tying her dance shoes she couldn’t help but get the strange unnerving impression someone else was watching her. She didn’t want to look up. But she knew she had to. With wary eyes she finally sat up and saw him to the left of her peripheral vision. She hadn’t seen him come into the dressing room. It was one of the performers from another studio. She recognised his face from the dance program. It was the same man she had bumped into. And the strange uncomfortable cold she had felt earlier, suddenly came back to her.

He was dark, muscular. And his eyes matched his complexion. And he was watching her, a little too closely; but not in the way she liked. They weren't curious eyes. Rather, they stared at her as if assessing whether or not the ‘goods’ were worth buying. And it made her more than uncomfortable. She couldn’t deny the man was handsome (not nearly as handsome as Adrien) but his face war far too mature; he was significantly older, perhaps mid-forties. In shape and something about his predatory authoritative stance that made her want to keep her distance. This man clearly was used to getting what he wanted; he had the looks for it. And she wanted no part in it.

_Crap! He saw me looking and now he’s heading over! I should have stayed with Adrien!_

Standing and purposely keeping her back and face directly away from him, headed towards the entrance of the tent.

“Hey wait.”

She cringed, but kept walking. Honestly she wasn’t in the mood. She truly felt uncomfortable in his presence. Or rather anyone’s presence but Adrien’s. Usually, she would have given him a firm, truthful _“no - I'm not interested”._ But a surge of panic suddenly hit her at the back of her throat. Glancing frantically for Adrien, her throat tightened when she couldn’t find him. 

“Sorry. But I have to get to my boyfriend. We need to get ready for our performance.” She muttered quickly, still walking, down the long curtained off hallway. Her confidence had gone. She just needed to find him. She needed _him._ Marinette shouldn’t have been this dependent on Adrien. She shouldn’t have been this scared to be alone. But she needed to by _Right now!_ He was a stranger. She didn’t know him. And she was scared. Scared that she had lost the will to fight back. At least, not without her partner! For crying-out loud, she was Ladybug! And she had lost her voice! She had lost the will to stand up to him and simply stare him down. So she had chickened out, and run.

As much as she tried to focus on the incessant chatter and Latin music, she could still feel him following her.

She could hear his footsteps. He was close behind. Why hadn’t she waited until there were other people in the dressing room before she started getting ready?! Why?!

“I recognise you from all of the posters and the merchandise book. You’re a model?”

From that tone, he clearly wasn’t interested in anything but her looks. Marinette couldn’t imagine Adrien treating her as anything less than something pretty to drape over his arm and show her off.

“One-time-gig to help out my boyfriend. _He’s_ the model. I have to go now.” She said quickly, voice low. She refused to look at him.

“Well you’re really pretty in those photos.”

_Christ! Where was Alya when she needed her? And why was he still following her? Nonchalant! Nonchalant! Act as if you don’t care!_ Her internal monologue could barely be heard over the pounding of her heart, which echoed in her ears. She didn’t want him there. She didn’t want him near her.

“Meh. Not really.”

“You dancing performing tonight with the studio?” 

“Yeah. With the model from the photography book. My boyfriend is my dance partner.” 

_Why was she telling him this? Was she reassuring him … or herself? Why was she even feeling like this?!_ Marinette had never felt this … pathetic. Or scared. She was really frightened.

“Hmmm. Well I think you’d look better without him.”

_Look better? Was this guy for real?!_

With a frustrated sigh she turned to him, stopping dead in her tracks. As much as it physically pained her; as much as it frightened her, she had no choice. She forced her unwilling body to turn. And she gave the man and his unwanted attention the hardest and coldest glare she could muster. 

“Stop following me! You’re making me uncomfortable and I don’t like it.”

The man gave a smug grin, unrepentant. “Hey now. All I wanted to ask was if you could save a dance for me.”

Usually Marinette danced with people she didn’t know. She didn’t like it but she slowly got used to it. That was social dancing. But this. _This_ was too much. And with the way she was feeling right now; she just couldn’t deal with it. Not with everything going on, right now.

“Sorry. As much as I love dancing, I don’t dance with people that invade my personal space. Like I said - you make me uncomfortable.”

Just as she was turning, a strong grip around her wrist spun her around. Her heart leaped in her throat, as those fingers dug into her skin. It hurt.

“H-Hey! Let go of-” she shrieked, instinct kicking in her gut to yank herself away, fear freezing her heart. She suddenly felt sick. Someone was touching her! Someone else was touching her! It felt wrong! _It felt so wrong!_ But Marinette never finished her sentence.

It all happened too quickly. She didn’t even see it. She could only hear the sound of a scuffle and the howl of pain, her wrist suddenly free of the unwanted shackle.

Marinette’s eyes went wide with shock. Her predator’s face was turning purple in a vice-tight head lock. The man was practically choking. As for her favourite bright evergreen eyes, they had darkened with seething hatred. Hands and strong arms that held her so carefully, looked as if they could easily snap the man in two without a second thought. The gentle mouth that constantly adored her with ardent kisses, had twisted into a terrifying snarl. He was angry. No. Furious. Full of wrath and murderous intent. There would be no regret should the man be killed. 

Marinette had never seen Adrien like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I'm finally back! Sorry for such a late chapter. I've been trying to bulk-write. So that's basically writing more than one chapter and having them ready for all of you! I've already started Part 2. And I've given you a really long chapter to make up for my absence. Apologies for not uploading sooner, but I got an eye infection (a stye) in the past couple of weeks, and it really irritated me. Just looking at a computer screen hurt so I had to stop. Eye infection is nearly fixed though! So I'm back to writing. Enjoy this new chapter.
> 
> Another thing: I KNOW my grammar and spelling is absolute shit! It's awful! I know! I'm constantly trying to fix chapters. Creative writing was never my strongest suit. I'm planning on doing a huge edit from start to finish next weekend. But when people keep reminding me on how bad my grammar is, it makes me feel worse. I know I'm terrible. I'm going to fix it. I promise. But I'm writing this fanfiction mostly in the evening, when I'm half-asleep, exhausted from looking at two (or sometimes three) computer screens for 7 hrs straight. I'm sorry! Please give me a break! I'm working on it!


	52. The Annual Ball - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This fanfiction is now rated Mature, thus is suitable for 'mature' audiences.

It had all happened so quickly. The scuffle, the swift punch, and the strangle hold that followed after that. Marinette could only watch in stunned and horrified silence when Adrien finally let the man that was struggling in his grip plummet to the floor. Though Adrien was shorter and physically leaner than him, Adrien had barely winced holding the man down in a chokehold. He was much stronger than he appeared to be, and powerful too. It was unexpected. And frightening.

Adrien glowered fiercely at the man on the floor, struggling to catch his breath. 

“Come within even ten feet of her and I’ll beat the shit out of your worthless hide. And by the way, you’re more than welcome to call the authorities if you want to file a complaint. I’d like nothing more to see you behind bars.”

The wheezing man said nothing. There were no threats. He didn’t beg for forgiveness. How could he when he was practically purple in the face from the lack of oxygen to his lungs?

Not even looking back, Adrien grabbed Marinette’s hand, pulling her away.

“ _Adrien!_ Wait! Where are we going? Slow down!”

Marinette cried as she struggled to keep up but her pleas fell on deaf ears. Adrien was absolutely furious.

_This is impossible! Tiki said something like this could happen._

So she did the only thing she could do. Marinette dug her heeled shoes into the carpeted floor, causing her to stop abruptly. Adrien’s hand still held her own tightly, forcing the both of them to jerk backwards from the momentum. And Marinette ended up slamming right into Adrien’s back (or rather, the hard angles of his shoulder blades) face, first.

“Ow! My head!” Marinette grimaced, clutching her forehead.

“Mari! Oh my goodness, I didn’t mean to do that!” Adrien’s thunderous anger had vanished suddenly, doing a complete one-eighty, his voice frantic and full of concern.  “Are you alright?”

“I think I should be asking you that.” Marinette mumbled, finally looking at him.

The cold dark fury that had clouded his bright evergreen eyes had gone. The snarl and angry creases in his face had softened. He was no longer trembling with rage. It had frightened her. Though she hadn’t been frightened of _him,_ Adrien’s unpredictable and violent change of mood wasn’t something to be taken lightly. He usually had the control to keep his temper at bay. But the absolute rage and seething hatred for the man that would have assaulted her was something she had never seen. She didn’t even want to think what would have happened to him, had it been Chat Noir in Adrien’s place. Though the dangerous side of Chat had been tamed for now, Marinette saw that Adrien was using every last bit of his ‘civilian’ sense, to restrain himself. He was holding himself back; struggling to keep himself in check from doing something far worse than a simple 'beating the guy within an inch of his life’. Adrien would never direct his anger towards her. She knew that. He would never hurt _her._ But he could hurt others. And Marinette didn’t want that. That’s not what Ladybug and Chat Noir stood for. And she had to remind him of that.

“I … I’ve never seen you like that.” She confessed.

Adrien said nothing. And then he sighed. He sounded exhausted.

And shame flashed through his eyes.

“I’n going to be honest with you. Even though it wouldn’t have helped the situation, I wanted to rip the asshole limb from limb. I should have.”

Marinette recoiled in shock. 

“Adrien! I understand that you’re angry. It’s not that I’m not grateful for you coming to the rescue back there but you’ve never like this. I’ve seen you annoyed but never this angry.”

“Mari, I-”

But Marinette shook her head. “I’m serious, Adrien. You’ve never reacted this way. Even as Chat.”

“No one touches you like that!” Adrien quickly snapped, his fists suddenly clenched tight. Evergreen eyes flashed with sudden rage and utter loathing for the ‘man’ so fast, Marinette couldn’t even keep up with Adrien’s resentment.

“Adrien I-”

“You’re mine, Marinette! Had I not been there, he could have hurt you, or worse! He might have-”

“ _Adrien!_ ” Marinette put her foot down, in the metaphorical sense as her mother would have put it. Fixing her boyfriend with a steely firm gaze, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Stop it. Just, breathe. Think for a moment.”

Adrien glared fiercely for a few moments then very slowly he unclenched his fists, his shoulders sagging. 

In a very familiar gesture, Adrien awkwardly rubbed the back of his head with his hand. 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so … it was _bad._ Wasn’t it?” 

“It’s - it wasn’t bad. It was just very unlike you.” 

Marinette watched him shudder, the snarl that once contorted his beautiful face, slowly beginning to soften. He still looked angry, but it was a start.

“I’ve never seen you like that.” She said quietly. “You’re usually more reasonable.”

Adrien sunk down into the seat next to her, taking her hand into his. 

“Sorry. I just got so angry all of a sudden. Seeing you with him; I don’t know what happened. I just saw red. And this big tsunami of bad emotions came out of no where.”

“It’s understandable that you’re jealous and protective Adrien. But what you did - what you said it-”

“I’m sorry. I'm usually not that possessive or territorial. And I, of all of people, should know that you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself when it comes to people you don’t exactly like; as a civilian or superhero. What scares me is, that was me holding back. I was struggling not to beat the living daylights out of him.”

“I know, Adrien.”

Adrien was quiet as he spoke. “Do you think it has something with me being Chat Noir?”

“It seems the most plausible option. Our miraculous traits affect how behave when we’re in civilian form. Tiki says there’s no way of getting rid of it. It’s been that way for all miraculous holders. We can only learn to adapt. But Adrien, even if it was the miraculous, your behaviour was inexcusable.”

“So I’m gonna be this possessive, controlling, an occasional violent asshole, whenever someone else touches you for the rest of my life? _Wonderful_. Not exactly pleased with that.”

“Okay, first of all, you could _never_ be that.” Marinette said with a slight smile, sitting beside him. “Even when you’re Chat Noir. Yes, you may be powerful and dangerous, but you would never hurt me. You want to use your powers to protect me. I’ve always known that. _You’ve_ always known that.”

Adrien gave her hand a squeeze. “I suppose.” 

_“_ Besides, remember I’m here to help you learn how to adapt. You’re my boyfriend. Any boyfriend would feel the same way as you do; you just let your emotions get the best out of you. Just next time, promise me that you won’t let it get too far.”

“Mari, I barely controlled myself back there. I was this close to ripping and tearing at his throat the moment I saw him touch you. It wouldn’t have had to be him grabbing your wrist. The fact he was reaching out to touch you; wanting to claim you as his own … I don’t even want to think what I would have done had I been Chat Noir.”

Marinette shivered. She couldn’t think about it. But if there was anyone that could remedy that, it was her.

“Listen. I didn’t like him touching me.”

“I figured.”

“No - it’s not just that. Even being in his presence I sensed he wanted something more. And I didn’t like it. It felt wrong, uncomfortable. In fact, it sickened me. The idea of someone other than you touching me and being in my presence is horrible. I wanted to get out of there as fast as possible; to find you so I could feel right again.”

“R-really?”

Marinette gave a shy smile, giving his hand a squeeze.

“You’re possessive and territorial. I feel this constant need to be with you, whenever you leave, which sucks. But I’m forcing myself to adapt. It’s hard but I’m getting there. It’s a slow transition but it’s something.”

“How are you adapting?”

“Tiki told me to keep myself busy; to remember what it was liked before we started a relationship.”

“Seems so long ago.”

“I know. But I followed her advice. I kept up with my job, focused on my degree, helped my parents in the bakery, got creative and sewed. Forcing myself to do meaningless things; to do all the things I did before our relationship, helped. The loneliness hasn’t gone, but it’s bearable to some degree.”

“And you being around other men or women is easier now, too.”

“It has to be people I know; people that I trust. It’s okay. But when it comes to people I don’t know; strangers, it feels so wrong. And I just have to get out of there. I’ve almost forgotten how to tell people no, and stand up to them. I mean, I forced myself back there, but still it was horrible.”

“Seems like we both have our problems.”

“Yeah.”

They sat in silence for a moment, thinking. Weighing out the unusual circumstance they found themselves in.

“How do you feel? Are you still angry?”

“No. Not anymore. In fact, knowing that you only want me around, that you only want me touching you, makes me so happy. And hopefully, knowing you feel the same way as I do, it will keep my temper at bay. I refuse to be possessive or controlling. You’re my equal, Marinette. Nothing less. I won’t treat you like property. If I flare up again like I did back there, please punch me in the face.”

“One day at a time. And I will.”

“This conversation has given me a really big ego boost.”

Marinette rolled her eyes but she laughed, relieved that Adrien seemed to be his usual calm and gentle self once more. 

“Careful. Your Chat Noir is showing.”

“Hey - I don’t like others touching you. And you don’t like others touching you too. Win-win, for me. So does that mean I get to keep you to myself for the entire night.”

“Your glare is enough to keep people off me. That and the fact you hiss and snarl. I don’t have a choice. Unless, Lance wants a dance with me.”

Adrien made a face.

“Be nice. I’ve danced with him before and remember he’s engaged. He’d never take advantage of me.”

“Alright. He can be the sole token male that can dance with you tonight, should he wish it.”

“Come on, I think we should mingle. We’ve got a while before the performances start.”

Adrien gave her a wistful smile. “Don’t think I can let you out of my sight tonight.”

“Hey, I’ll be with you for the whole evening … and afterwards.”

The knowing twinkle in Adrien’s bright green eyes made her heart flutter.

 

—————

 

Julio didn’t want them dancing too much before their performances. The risk of having an accident on the dance floor wasn’t worth those weeks of hard training, let alone not one but two costumes Marinette had worked so hard on. So Marinette decided to spend time with Jaxx. Much to her chagrin, she had eagerly wanted to look at the latest collection of costumes, shoes and other merchandise that Stüdaria were selling.

“Wow. They really went all the way with those photos.” Marinette muttered. Even with the loud chatter and music, Adrien’s sharp senses could pick up what she was saying. He gave her an apologetic smile, acknowledging the many photographs displayed on plinths. Despite having already seen them herself, Marinette still couldn’t stop blushing at them. She couldn’t deny that she looked stunning and voluptuous in them. But the studio certainly hadn’t been ashamed enough to censor the more provocative photos. 

Jaxx gave a squeal, running up to her, holding out one of the phonebooks from the shoot. She had a sharpie in one hand.

Marinette frowned. “What’s the pen for? Are you marking which outfits you’re going to order?”

Lance laughed. “No, silly. She wants your autograph.”

“Yup! That includes you Adrien.” Jaxx giggled. Marinette rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but smile at her friend’s enthusiasm.

Adrien shrugged. “I mean, it is my night off from modelling and fame and it’s against my contract … though I suppose I could breach it just for you, Jaxx.”

“Hey, what about me?” Lance miffed.

“You’re too tall.” Adrien eyed him.

“Oh stop it you.” Marinette said lightly. Carefully holding the pages down on Jaxx’s copy, she signed her name. It felt a little strange. She wasn’t exactly someone famous. Well, there was that one time she autographed that Jagged Stone CD for Adrien. Okay. Perhaps she _was_ famous, to him at least.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Oh and sign this one too! This one’s for another friend whose in the intermediate class. And can you also sign this one, for Alya?”

“That I can do.” Marinette grinned.

“My friend’s dance mates are going to be so jealous!”

“I’m surprised that more people have come up to you for your autograph. Everyone that we’ve bumped into, has recognised you from that shoot. I mean, of course, everyone knows Adrien but the response you’ve gotten from these photos has been really positive. Everyone thinks you’re a real model; the next big thing for Stüdaria.” Lance said thoughtfully as he sat down on one of the lush covered benches, to try on a pair of black and white leather dance shoes. Adrien sat next to him.

“Part of Marinette’s contract was the guarantee that she wouldn’t be hassled by people she doesn’t know, since she isn’t a model. Upon buying the tickets, guests had to agree not to approach her about the shoot, particularly model or talent agencies.”

_And the last guy completely ignored those terms._ Marinette thought but stayed quiet; there was no need to bring up past transgressions.

“That or they’re scared shitless by that glare of yours. You’ve frightened all those potential suitors of hers, away.”

“The only suitor she’ll ever have will be be an I intend to keep it that way. You don’t have any complaints, right Mari?”

Marinette raised an eyebrow, but gave her boyfriend a teasing smile. “Let me take a rain check.”

“But the costumes are absolutely stunning this year! And you look so beautiful in them. Are you going to buy any of the dresses.” Jaxx said, flipping through the pages.

“Haven’t really thought about it yet. And in any case, when would I ever wear it? Performances like these are most often sporadic. And I prefer tights and tank tops when I go social dancing.”

“I’m not complaining.” Adrien whispered to Lance. He merely smirked.

“Ladies and Gentleman, if I could have your attention.” 

Marinette and her friends turned towards the large centre stage. Anna was bathed in a golden spotlight, looking very pretty in a dark blue dance dress.“Come on, we should head over.” Marinette said. Everyone nodded, following her. Adrien easily took her hand as they made their way through the murmuring crowd. Some people took to the many seats at the front of the stage. Marientte preferred to stand. Adrien never let go of her hand but stood behind her, tucking her small frame under his chin.

“I’d like to thank you all for attending tonight’s Annual Ball. We’re going to have a wonderful evening, showcasing some of our studio’s best performances.”

“I’d like to invite Julio, one of our lead instructors at Latin á Paris to the stage.”

Everyone clapped enthusiastically, Marinette included.

“He certainly looks very dashing.” Jaxx murmured to her.

“Agreed. I wonder where Alya is. She said she was live streaming the event.”

Jaxx pointed. Marinette’s eyes went wide. She was manning a very large camera, tucked away at the corner. Tonight’s event would certainly look good on her CV.

“Thank you everyone, for attending tonight. I’m honoured to be here. First of all, there are several people I’d like to thank for making tonight possible. Thank you to the teams from Studio Motion, RhythmParis and Club Latin who will be performing tonight amongst Latin á Paris’ own students.”

There was a loud and courteous clap. 

“Thank you to the studios team for making this ball possible; the organisation and dedication from all of our staff members is most incredible and very humbling. I’d also like to thank the Alya Césaire and her film crew for filming tonight’s event.”

Marinette made sure to give a very loud cheer, waving at her friend. Her friend grinned, waving back.

“And Most importantly I’d like to thank our biggest partner; Stüdaria. If you get the time, please purchase some of their beautiful costumes and shoes. As you can see, their latest collection Noir has just been released. And should you enter tonight’s raffle, one lucky winner will get to choose one costume _and_ a set of dance shoes from that collection.”

And excited murmur rose from the crowd.

“I also feel I have to give another big thank you to the wonderful models who helped with the Annual Ball’s advertising campaign. Without it, tonight wouldn’t have been possible. They happen to be members of the Latin á Paris family, and will be performing amongst our advanced couples tonight. Can we give a big thank you to Adrien Agreste-Rousseau and Miss Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette felt her cheeks go hot, as she blushed from the very unexpected praise. Everyone clapped enthusiastically, her dance instructor finding her in the audience and giving her an appreciate smile. She swore Alya’s praise was the loudest; she was practically screaming. Louder than Jaxx. Adrien gave her an embraced smile, evergreen eyes tender as he gave everyone a bashful wave.

“And thank you all for attending tonight. Thank you for sharing this wonderful night with us. So without further ado, let the evening commence!”

The lights suddenly went out and music began to play. On several large screens, the video Alya had worked so hard on these past couple of weeks, with the help of the studio’s dancers began to play.

Everyone was in absolute awe of the video. Designed as a montage with the perfect music, she recognised so many of the dancers featured, all of them smiling, all of them dancing passionately across the screen. When Jaxx and Lance flashed across the screen, their hips swaying provocatively to the music, Marinette couldn’t help but grin as she turned to her friend who was bathed in darkness. The film was truly an incredible film; Alya had really worked wonders to weave and meander the many different facets of the studio, as well as introducing its many talented dancers. Marinette couldn’t help but blush a little, her heart warming from the cheered praise that echoed around her when clips of her dance practices with Adrien flashed on screen. Alya hadn’t been shy about using their more provocative dance positions, she had made certain to showcase Marinette’s natural flexibility. 

“You and your fiancee look pretty good.” Marinette said to her friend, watching one of Jaxx’s and Lance’s dance practices in awe. 

Jaxx raised an eyebrow then smirked, when the sudden sound of cheers and wolf whistles erupted around her once more. 

Gesturing for Marinette to look at the screen, her heart flipped and her mouth fell open in a silent shriek. The film had come to a close, turning black on its final scene of Adrien bringing her up from a dip, ever so close, and caught in the midst of a heated kiss.

_Aghhhhh! That was from the-! Alya! Why did she put that in?!_

“Not as good as you two, apparently.”

“I’m going to kill her.” Marinette mumbled. Though Adrien had yet to include his input, she could feel the rumble of his chest against her back, as he laughed.

Marinette watched her friend shrug lightly, as golden lights began to glow around them. 

“Apparently, sexy Latin-body grinding, sells well. Everyone clearly loved that video montage.”

Julio was just stepping onto the stage, addressing the audience once more when Adrien whispered into her ear.

“All of us should start getting ready. The performances are about to start soon and we need to warm up. We can watch them from small viewing screen in the back stage tent, with Jaxx and Lance.”

Marinette glanced to her dancing companions. All three of them nodded.

“Let’s get going then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I'm officially back from my hiatus! Sorry for not posting sooner. To be honest the reason why I haven't been writing is because I kinda lost my interest in Miraculous Ladybug but it's come back with renewed vigour since Season 2 FINALLY came out. I'm actually almost finished with the next chapter. I wanted to post both at once but it kinda felt stupid. You guys deserve something to read after waiting so long!
> 
> It's good to be back!


	53. The Annual Ball - Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This fanfiction is now rated Mature, thus is suitable for 'mature' audiences.

Marinette was surprised that Latin á Paris dancers had their own tent. It certainly made the preparation work a lot more exciting, and a little prestigious. 

“Tiki, are you sure you and Plagg are okay in here?” Marinette whispered to the both of them who were hiding in their shared locker. Plagg was sound asleep, his tummy fat and round. He was probably experiencing another food coma. Tiki was happily nibbling on a cookie, watching television shows on Adrien’s phone.

“We’re fine, Marinette. And it’s a good thing Adrien brought his portable charger with him. Who knew Adrien’s Netflix was such an amazing thing? I’ve binged watched the entire first season of Vikings!”

Marinette gave her tiny kwami a look. “I thought you didn’t like violence and overly pornographic sex scenes?”

Tiki gave her an embarrassed smile. “It’s really addictive. More so than cookies if I have to admit. But Plagg got bored after the first fifteen minutes of the first episode.”

“Well they’re live streaming the Annual Ball, Tiki. That way you can watch all of the performances tonight, including ours.”

“I’ve got it open on another tab. I’m going to wake Plagg up the moment the performances start.”

“Well, enjoy yourselves. They’re plenty of food and water for you.” Marinette gave Tiki a gentle pat on the head before grabbing her makeup bag and heading back to the dressing room.

She had her costume on, the side wrap skirt, carefully tied around her waist. It hung loose across her hips, just as she had designed it. Although made to be untied to hang at the side of her thigh in a delicate train, Marinette thought it best if her lower half was concealed until the moment she danced. She did had a little self-respect left.

Everything else around her was a mixture of chatter, warmth and a dazzling array of satin, brightly coloured lycra, tassels and sequins, and excitement. Everyone looked utterly breath taking in their costumes.

She couldn’t help notice that in comparison to the other dancers and teams, dressed in either bright and exotic hues, or dark and mysterious seductive reds or blacks, she was the only one in a soft pale pink. 

_I wonder if my costume is a little bit ‘youngish’ looking._ Marinette thought to herself.

Jaxx was putting her makeup on at one of the dressing tables, her long dark hair swept to the side in soft ringlets. She was surprisingly wearing a lovely white coloured costume, the pure and incredibly unstained shade a lovely contrast against her dark olive skin. With a high front, a halter neck clasp, her bare back was completely exposed.

“Wow! You look so beautiful.”

Her friend smiled at her in the mirror. 

“Oh, shush. You’re the stunning one. And you’re the only one whose wearing a costume that's completely home-made. That’s saying something. How are you doing your makeup?”

“Well, I’m thinking about winged eyeliner. Soft lips I think. I don’t want it to look cheap.” She said, sitting down, next to her friend as she put primer onto her face.

“Good idea.”

“And I was just going to put my hair in a neat bun so I can take my hair out, in the routine-”

“No.” Her friend said flatly.

“Um, but it will get in the way of-”

“Adrien can take a few whacks in the face. I mean, look at me and Lance. Don’t put your hair in a neat bun, it’s too formal. You’re supposed to be tantalising and alluring, so keep your hair down. Don’t even style it that much. Your hair is already so beautiful and thick. So perhaps, just sweep it to the side, brush and add some shine to it. With Latin Dancing, running one’s hands through one’s hair is Sexy 101.”

“But I _have_ to tie it up. I need to have it styled like that so I can let it down; it’s part of the choreography.”

“Your hair should be messy, it should easily fall down without effort. How have you been doing it during your practices?”

“Like I said, bun. But just tied back with a scrunchy. Nothing fancy. It gets really messy as I dance. That’s why I have to have it up high and neat, with my hair sprayed back.”

“No, keep the bun messy and natural.”

“I’ll look really untidy and out of place, compared to everyone else in buns, won't I?”

“Not if you do it right. It will look more natural and certainly more provocative when you actually take your hair out. Here; let me do it, before you finish your make up. Actually, scratch that. _I’ll_ do your make up. I have the perfect look that will go with it.”

“Umm…” Marinette was still a little unsure.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got a great idea on how to do your hair. I don’t think I’ll need many pins if I’m lucky.”

Marinette sighed, letting her friend get to work, Jaxx, gently taking her hair and brushing it back above her head. Whisps of hair fell down the sides of her face but Jaxx didn’t tuck them back. She wouldn’t touch them. With her hair being pulled back, Marinette’s natural Eurasian features came to light, glowing in the lights of the mirror. Not quite sure where to look, she decided to watch the other beautiful dancers in the reflection of the mirror, letting Jaxx work her magic. She said nothing, going still when Jaxx finished with her hair and started applying more makeup on her face, dusting a soft highlighter on her face.

“I think it’s best to keep your skin clear; only use contouring. You’re skin it too pale for blush. And maybe we should keep your lips a soft neutral colour or little darker than the colour of your lips. Red will be too distracting. And how about dark smokey eyes, to match the blackwork on your costume, rather than pink?” Jaxx asked her.

“I trust your judgment.” Marinette said.

“Very well. Turn around and face me completely. Don’t look at your reflection until I’m done.”

Marinette could only nod.

As Jaxx’s dextrous and creative hands got to work, Marinette thought quietly, wondering about the events to come. She was certainly excited about tonights performances, not just her own. There was so much talent to be shown. And she hadn’t social danced for a fair while, not since she joined the studio. And it wasn’t just Bachata performances. The Annual Ball had advertised Salsa, Kizomba, Cha Cha and and Reggaeton; something she had never seen before.

The more her mind wondered about the ball, the more she thought about all the things that had happened and would happen tonight. And then it came to her. She had yet to open the good luck gift from her parents. 

“Alright, all done.” Jaxx said. “Pretty proud of myself. Have a look.”

Marinette turned to her reflection and her eyes went wide.

True to her word, Jaxx had put her hair up in a messy, untidy bun, but not enough to look completely untidy. Instead, her dark had been combed back loosely, long strands falling from down her face, some touching her collar bones and the nape of her neck. The rest was pulled upwards in a large lustrous bun. Strangely enough, her hair, though simple and natural, did look more provocative than the neat hairstyle she had wanted previously. She wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was the makeup so expertly done by her friend. Her eyes had been darkened by the smokey black and silver eyeshadow, lids accentuated by a dark wing of eyeliner. Her cheeks had been contoured softly. Her lips a slightly darker shade than usual, covered in a velvet matte lipstick, making them alluring and far more kissable. Jaxx had given her such a simple hairstyle. And apart from her bluebell eyes dusted with dark eyeshadow, her provocative yet elegant makeup was surprisingly minimal. It looked … she felt so _natural_. Unblemished. There was nothing particularly special about what Jaxx had done. And she couldn’t understand how so little could make her feel so breathtakingly beautiful.

“I … wow. Jaxx, how-”

Jaxx shrugged. “It’s easy to create something exceptionally stunning when you happen to have a canvas that just happens to be naturally beautiful. All I did was put your hair in a bun and add one layer of makeup on your face. The rest is all you.”

“It’s perfect.” She said quietly. 

“I’m glad I went with my gut instinct. You have such beautiful features, and your hair is already so thick and lustrous, why hide that away with makeup and hairspray. The makeup goes really well with what you’re wearing. Some people wear such elaborate costumes and over the top makeup when there’s no point. You’re one of those cases.”

Hesitantly, Marinette reached up, twirling one of the loose strands at the side of her cheek. It came loose from the bun at the back, falling downwards, extending towards her collar bone. The act alone was so effortless; yet strangely alluring.

“There. See how your hair falls so beautifully. That will look great on stage. Now, try not to move around too much until the performance. That hairstyle isn’t designed to hold for sudden movements. If it starts to come too loose, come find me.”

“Okay. How to I take the bun out?”

“Feel underneath.”

Marinette did. She felt something there. Like a long pin, or several pins.

“I’ve put a couple of pins in there. No one can see them. All you need to do is to rake one hand through your hair whilst the other pulls gently at the pins. That should make your hair fall out easily. Your hair is heavy enough for that.”

Marinette stood up and gave her new friend a hug. “Thanks Jaxx. I love it. It’s absolutely perfect.”

“Now, all you need is perfume.”

“Jaxx, seriously. For a dance?”

“What’s the chances of Adrien wearing cologne?”

Marinette opened her mouth. Then closed it. She could practically smell his delicious spicy cologne already.

“Can I borrow some?”

 

—————

 

Adrien left Lance as he followed Jaxx back towards the lockers to get Marinette who had gone back to get the present from her parents. He was already dressed smartly in his costume. Wearing all black, he couldn’t help but feel a little more Chat than usual so he left his hair the same tousled golden mop, whenever he transformed.

“I have to get back to Lance. We’ll save some seats for you in the viewing tent.” 

“See you Jaxx.”

He was honestly glad for the privacy. He needed to check up on Plagg for starters, knowing full well that he’d demand more cheese for being cooped up in that locker. Two, Marinette would be there. And he wanted nothing more to be with her. Alone. Away from prying eyes. 

It didn’t take him long to reach the locker room. He could hear Marinette talking softly to their kwami’s.

“Hey Mari, you ready to-” 

And Adrien stopped short, breath hitching in his throat.

Marinette turned to see Adrien staring at her, evergreen eyes blown wide with surprise before darkening with an intensity that made her blush and look down at her dance shoes.

Heart fluttering in her chest, his beautiful eyes never failed to send her thoughts into a hazy mess, nor did they stop rendering her speechless. Especially when they gazed at her with such hungry ardent longing. _Especially_ when they looked at her like that.

She never saw or heard him walk up to her. But a gentle hand took hold of her chin, tilting her face upwards. Green eyes met bright shy blue.

“You’re an absolute vision, my Lady.” 

“Thanks, you don’t look to bad yourself.” 

Oh who was she kidding?!

The moment she laid eyes on him, any sound reasoning had completely short circuited and fried. Adrien looked absolutely breathtaking, especially tonight. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t stop her eyes roaming over his svelte and tall body, clad in black. He had purposely left the few top buttons undone, allowing teasing glimpses of the toned muscles of his chest. The sculpted lines of his beautiful face were forever mesmerising, just like his stunning evergreen eyes. His golden hair was a wonderful tousled mop, reminding him of bed hair, or rather … _sex_ hair.

_Don’t look at his lips! Don’t look at his lips! You have makeup, on Marinette!_ That frantic annoying voice screamed in the back of her head.

Adrien didn’t want to mess up her hair but he just couldn’t resist toying with one of the stray dark strands that fell down the side of her face, brushing the nape of her neck. The way it easily wrapped around his fingers, like a strand of silk before falling softly against her creamy skin, sent a stir through him. He could just picture Marinette unravelling it into that gorgeous, thick sweet-smelling blanket of dark silk, a stunning contrast against her creamy lightly freckled shoulders. 

Adrien had to close his eyes for a moment. He had to gain control of his body. Though comfortable, this costume wasn't exactly forgiving in the 'sudden-hard-on-department'. 

But he just couldn’t help himself, as he lowered his head breathing in her scent, nose skimming down her throat and bare shoulders.

The air suddenly felt very warm between them, the air thick with newfound desire.

“A-Adrien!” She gasped, “Someone might-”

Adrien chuckled against her skin, pressing a gentle kiss just above her collar bone. “Don’t worry. I’ll behave myself … for now.”

Marinette blushed a vivid but delightful pink. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“You smell heavenly.” He murmured lifting his head.

_If she smelt heavenly, Adrien smelt absolutely divine._

“Jaxx lent me some of her perfume.” Marinette said, a little awkwardly. 

“You ready to go?’

“Almost. I checked on Tiki and Plagg already. I just need to see what my parents gave me.”

Marinette sat down on one of the benches, Adrien quickly following behind. With dextrous fingers, she carefully opened the tiny pouch.

Her eyes widened and her heart warmed when she saw what was inside. 

“Wow. It’s so pretty. And it goes with my costume perfectly.”

Marinette carefully, took out the simple but elegant black lace choker, marvelling at the beautiful obsidian drop pendant, suspended from its centre. 

“Want me to put it on for you?”

“Yes please.” 

Adrien took the necklace from her hands, urging her to turn around. With her hair up, he couldn’t help but marvel at how utterly tantalising she was from behind. Not to mention her actual behind looked just as stunning in her pink leotard. With the utmost restraint, he managed to hold back from ravishing that neck he adored so much with ardent kisses.

“There.” Adrien said, easily clipping the clasps together. “Let’s see.”

Marinette turned around, hesitantly touching the jewel that felt directly between her collar bones. “What do you think?”

Adrien gave her a smile, bright evergreen eyes darkening with with awe and desire once more.

“You already know what I think, Princess.”

Once again, Marinette felt her face turn bright pink. And she certainly didn’t miss the smoulder in Adrien’s eyes, as he stared intently into her own. The heat in between them couldn’t possibly get any worse!

Adrien held out his hand for her to take. “We ... we should get going.”

Marinette could only nod faintly. _Please! Before I beg you to make love to me!_

 

_—————_

 

The four of them, Marinette, Adrien, Jaxx and Lance, sat quietly with the other performers, waiting patiently for their turn. 

“You know, as far a good-sports go, Léa really has such a big chip on her shoulder. Her dance partner’s okay I guess. Haven’t spoken much to him but do they really have to keep to themselves like that?” Lance asked, eyeing the other advanced couple, who had staunchly refused to join them.

“Maybe they’re just focused. Some people are like that.” Jaxx shrugged.

“Stop being so nice. Well they could at least have said good luck or something. Can’t even get a tiny hello from them.” Her fiancee grumbled.

“What’s wrong with being nice?”Jaxx naked with a roll of her eyes, causing Marinette and Adrien to laugh at the same time.

The performances had started. From the program they were following, they were over-half way. All of the group performances had finished, and they were mid-way through the Beginners, Intermediate and Advanced Soloists and Couples. 

From the off stage curtain, a communal projector had been set up for the performers to watch the order of the dances. Marinette had to admit, the caliber of what she had seen so far had more than impressed her. It had left her absolutely gobsmacked. Even the Beginners Teams were good from a technical standpoint. To be honest, she couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated. 

“Which team did you like, Mari?” Adrien asked her as the an all male team left the stage. 

“Definitely the Advanced Team from Studio Paladium. The lifts in those were so good! I didn’t even think those were possible. And the blue costumes looked amazing under the lighting.”

“Same. Studio Paladium is still ranked the highest in group performances throughout Paris. But Latina á Paris is ranked number one in Soloists and Couple Performances.”

“I’m so nervous. Everyone is so good.” Marinette confessed. Her heart wouldn’t stop hammering in her chest and the thousands of butterflies in her stomach had ceased to stop.

Adrien gave her a reassuring squeeze, lightly brushing his lips against the back of her shoulder. 

“Adrien … that isn’t exactly helping the butterflies in my stomach.”

Adrien chuckled. “I know. But at least it’s for a different reason.”

“You guys are disgusting.” Lance said flatly but the biggest smirk was plastered across his face. Jaxx whacked him across the chest. 

All of them laughed amongst themselves (well, all excluding the Léa and Michél), whilst occasionally adding the ‘good lucks’ and ‘all of you were incredible’ to the dancers that made there way in and out.

Marinette tried to focus on her breathing, to get her heart rate to calm down but her nerves refused to settle. They got worse with every passing minute, with every choreography that showcased on that stage bathed in golden yellow light. 

Her palms felt hot and sweaty when she rubbed them together anxiously.

“Marinette. It’s going to be alright.” He soothed her, rubbing soft circles on her back. He touched her gently, the motion careful and steady; a sharp contrast to what she was feeling right now.

“How are you not nervous?” Marinette said quietly.

“First of all, I am. I’m so scared right now, I feel like puking but I know that telling you that is just going to make you feel worse.”

Marinette grimaced, stomach twisting in uncomfortable knots. “Well, you’re right on that mark.”

“Secondly, someone has to have their game face on. Usually when it’s just us, that tends to be you Bugaboo. For once, let me shoulder the responsibility.”

“Adrien?”

“And last but not least, we’ve got this, Marinette. We know this dance like the back of our hands. And even if we make mistakes or forget the routine up there, that doesn’t matter. I’m dancing with you.”

“So what? We just improvise?” Marintte gulped. She could feel her face go ashen at the very notion of possible stage fright causing her to forget everything that she had worked and practiced so hard for. She would never hear the end of it.

“Not improv. Dancing. Just dancing. There’s nothing wrong with that. And it’s so easy to dance with you. Just let me lead you, Mari. Forget everyone else.”

His quiet reassurance, the constant touch against his shoulders, knowing that despite his own nerves, Adrien was willing to overcome that in order to help her; it seemed to help just a little. 

“You always take care of me, chatton.”

She didn’t say it too loudly. There were too many people around her. But she knew she heard him, when a soft lingering kiss brushed against her skin, Adrien’s nose nuzzling against the crook of her neck.

“I’m dancing with you, Marinette. When we’re up on that stage, when we’re in the studio, my apartment, your room, it doesn’t matter. I’m dancing with you. No one else should exist but us.”

Strong, and loving arms, wrapped around her waist, pulling her close. She sighed into his warm embrace.

“You really are the best medicine when it comes to slight anxiety attacks.” Marinette teased lightly. Adrien laughed.

“I’m always at my Lady’s service.”

“Hey guys, we’re about to head on after this performance. It’s about to finish any moment now.” Lance said.

Marinette smiled, turning to her newest friends who had worked so hard alongside her this past two months.

“Good luck you guys. Go get ‘em.” She gave both of them a tight hug. Adrien did the same.

“You’ll knock them dead.”

Lance and Jaxx smiled, walking hand in hand towards the entrance of the tent.

Marinette and Adrien watched their friends on the projector screen. Outside the crowd went wild with claps and whistles. They looked absolutely breathtaking togethers, as Lance lead his partner and fiancee into position. They looked so confident, so certain. It was no wonder that they were one of the Advanced Couples. Marinette hadn’t seen the whole routine when Lance and Jaxx had shared studio routines, just bits and pieces. This would be the first time she would see it.

Marinette and Adrien watched their friends step out onto the beautiful stage, bathed in golden light. Heads held high, smiling at the audience, Jaxx and Lance were absolutely breathtaking to watch. 

And when the beautiful steady rhythm of bongo drums echoed into the night, Marinette’s bright blue eyes went wide in surprise as she watched her friends from backstage. She couldn’t stop smiling. They really took her breath away! They were absolutely beautiful to watch. Lance was so confident. Jaxx trusted her partner completely. They moved as one with every lift and spin. They were swept away in their own beautiful world of music, golden light, sensuality and love. And they brought the audience along with them. For a brief moment Marinette had forgotten her nervousness. She had been taken away by the beautiful intimacy of her friends dancing, as they swayed and body rolled against each other.

“Come on, we should start lining up.” Adrien murmured quietly.

The gnawing anxiety came back. Marinette unintentionally squeezed Adrien’s hand. She didn’t even feel that she was doing it.

But a soft kiss against her temple soothed her, bringing her back to him.

“We got this Bugaboo.” He whispered against her skin. “Let’s dance.”

“Lets.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I'm finally back. I'm so sorry for the late post. Believe it or not, I had this and the next chapter pretty much finished but this past month has been hectic. All of you had waited so patiently for the previous chapter I wanted to write two for you but there were so many things that happened all at once.
> 
> 1\. I suddenly had to collect and send all of my documentation for AU citizenship (Gonna be an Aussie!), which pretty much was top priority so I was super stressed. It's nearly finished. 
> 
> 2\. 'Stress' made me sick; I ended up catching a cold that ended in an asthma-like chest infection (coughing to the point I wanted to puke)
> 
> 3\. Went to the doctors to get fixed for the chest infection only to find out there is legit something wrong with me, after 23 years of not knowing so now I have be careful with what I eat (nothing serious; it's genetic and I ended up being collateral damage ... oh, I also hate blood tests)
> 
> 4\. As I'm typing this, I'm actually not in Oz Land. I'm in Dubai, spending Christmas and New Years with parents, so packing and buying presents for them was even more stressful (... did I mention I hate flying)
> 
> So yeah. A LOT HAPPENED! Sorry! But as promised ... 2 NEW chapters!
> 
>  
> 
> Notes:
> 
> Marinette's costume:  
> http://nmwq9dsw451xq4fg3g5qyc16.wpengine.netdna-cdn.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/7/2016/08/Messy-Bun7.jpg  
> https://pbs.twimg.com/media/CbgmTxXW8AIAdOG.jpg:large  
> https://i0.wp.com/therighthairstyles.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/06/4-curly-messy-bun-long-hair.jpg?resize=500%2C576&ssl=1  
> https://i.pinimg.com/736x/10/17/ff/1017ff0b92a83bf9ce4db2db6b07ba44--asian-makeup-tips-eye-makeup-tips.jpg  
> https://jadestonedrawings.deviantart.com/art/Idea-for-Costume-712255315
> 
> This isn't what the dance performance is supposed to look like but this is just a little context - what people could look like should they dance to the particular song Adrien and Marinette danced too:  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TNnN-YIxdCo


	54. I Only See Him (The Annual Ball - Part 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette was many things. She was an aspiring fashion designer. She was the daughter of a baker. She was Paris's red and black-spotted protector. She was also the most awkward and most embarrassing klutz in the entire history of France. But never had she imagined herself to be a Bachata enthusiast. When a certain dance audition forces Marinette to partner with a very familiar, incredibly famous and exceptionally handsome blonde-haired model with bewitching evergreen eyes, she can only pray she doesn't make a complete fool of herself in front of him as well as on the dance floor. This is a story about finding love in the most unlikely of situations, namely through a dip and a bit of a body roll.
> 
> This fanfiction is now rated Mature, thus is suitable for 'mature' audiences.

_Marinette would walk on first._

That’s what they decided on. But from the moment she walked onto that stage, her blood went cold. The air was deathly quiet. She could feel their eyes, thousands of expectant gazes. But she couldn’t see any of them. Bathed in golden light, she couldn’t see anyone. She was blinded. But she could still feel them watching her, as she readied herself on trembling legs. Heart pounding in her chest, her insides twisting with an anxious and nauseating trepidation that threatened to tear and rip right through her chest, Marinette was absolutely terrified.

_Breathe. Just breathe. There’s no one else out there. Just me. Just me. And Adrien._

There was music. Their music. The soft lilting melody. Only it wasn’t. It rang loud into the night and it hurt her ears. It wasn’t like she remembered. It was too loud, too painful. Not comforting.

But she had to do this. She _had_ to.

Marinette tried to pull the pins out her bun with trembling fingers and a shaky breath.

She couldn’t grip them. And now she knew she couldn’t hide the anxiety in her face. The moment would be ruined. It was so obvious! What was she going to do?! She couldn’t move! She was stuck! She was terrified …

Marinette never felt him come up behind her. She could only gasp from the sudden movement. Something she had not caused. She had been too scared to move. But nothing could stop her thick dark hair from falling away from it’s confines in a thick beautiful wave across her shoulders. And when she turned around to see who it was, her eyes went wide. Her heart stopped in her chest.

Around her people cheered. People whistled. But she barely heard them. She could only see him, this mysterious stranger before her, clad in black, tall, strong and powerful like a jungle cat, his skin and golden hair glowing in the stage light, his beautiful face hidden away by a black mask.

 

_Soy el mismo_

_Ese que hablaba contigo_

 

Marinette knew the routine by heart. She had practiced all that time. She was supposed to body roll herself. To show that _she_ alone could be sexy, that she could be beautiful. Only she couldn’t. She had frozen on stage the moment the music had started. Scared, humiliated and ashamed. And the stranger could see that now. He should have never suggested that she try. He had been too presumptuous, to blind to her needs but now he understood. He knew now that his Princess, his Lady, could only ever feel beautiful and sexy when she was with him. Not alone. With _him._ Knowing that now; he felt ten feet tall; he was filled with happiness knowing that she needed him. _Needed him._ And he intended to help her feel that way once more. As many times as she craved. He had made her that promise long ago.

The beautiful stranger easily stepped into her space. Beautiful green eyes burned with such intensity, Marinette’s heart faltered. And he was looking at her. Only her. She should have looked away. Those eyes; they were too bright, full of want, longing and tenderness for her.

 

_Quien te llamaba a las 2 de la mañana y te contaba_

 

He pulled he close to him, and she found herself leaning into his touch. She couldn’t help it. He held her so gently, the way their bodies met in unison, his hand carefully pressing into her back, between her shoulder blades.

So guiding her pliant slender waist with his hands, he moved her, encouraging her to roll them back in a tantalising sway. 

 

_Su sueños de niño_

 

Marinette didn’t resist, a soft sigh falling from her lips, as she brought her arms up to wrap around his shoulders. She felt a hand lightly stroke the upwards, sliding up from her side, past the swell of her breast, past her face, tangling into her thick raven locks, the move sensual. It took several moments before she realised, she had done it herself. 

Staring in those beautiful green eyes with her own, she watched them darken with desire. They were full of promise. She wasn’t sure what. Only that she wanted it too. 

Taking her hand into his, they started to dance. 

 

_Soy el mismo_

_Quien te prestaba su oído_

_Sin importarme que el tiempo nos pasara lentamente_

_Hasta quedarnos dormidos_

 

A transformation. That had to be it. All of a sudden Marinette found that she could move again. She was so certain. So assured other own talent, her own sensuality. She knew that she was beautiful. She felt beautiful. She could see it in his eyes. That was all that mattered. Nothing else existed but them.

The shame had gone as was her humiliation. What use was shame when she felt none? Especially in front of the very man that had guided her out of that dark sickening place. Unlike the beautiful mask that he wore, her past-self, terrified, doubtful and ashamed, was not needed. Not here. And especially not in his arms, as he moved her with such ease. And she was so attune to him, as they swayed and body rolled in time to the tender music. This was her true self. Her real self. She was happy. She was safe to feel warm; to feel the need to be close, to be intimate, to feel utterly breathtaking and beautiful in those evergreen eyes that gazed at her with such devotion.

The man from the picture held her close. He was everything she envisioned in her darkest and most secret fantasies. Marinate couldn’t understand how such a man could exist but there he was, spinning her fast towards him, her hands styling as he brought her into a low dip. Some would have teased her about feeling the many strange emotions and sensations that she felt; that she yearned to feel. Most would have been disgusted. But not him. Not the man that gently slid a warm, tender hand down the length of her torso, over the delicate curve of her hipbone, to her thigh, pulling her close, as she was brought back up again.

  

_Y aunque la vida, tal vez_

_Nos haya llevado por distintos caminos_

No somos súper humanos

Para controlar o cambiar el destino

 

She moved against him with ease, as he brought her back to earth, her body sliding against his own as he spun, catching her by the waist. Just like they had spent hours practicing the lift she had never done before, she moved with confidence, before finally moving downwards, hands and arms always extended and graceful, her feet pointed. She flicked her hands, rolled her upper torso, ran her hands through her hair and slowly down her sides, accentuating her slender form and the soft curves of her breasts and hips. Every move she made was enticing, provocative. And they were all for him; only him.

 

_Soy aquel, el mismo de ayer_

_El que escribía sus canciones en el tren_

_Soy aquel, el que nunca se fue_

_El que pintaba tu carita en un papel_

 

Once again he moved, bringing them closer than ever. She complied, allowing his one of his legs to slip in between her own as he guided her hips, back and forth. She couldn’t help it. Something inside her wanted to. The real Marinette urged her that it was okay to want it. As he lowered her into a crouch, she pulled herself closer to him, watching his beautiful evergreen eyes widen in surprise by her newfound boldness. With a shy smile, she pressed her forehead against his, his soft golden hair mussed and tickling against her own. Lightly nuzzling her nose against his own, she brought up her left leg, her thigh hitching around his hip, and wrapping it around his waist causing the train to slide away. Evergreen eyes darkened with longing. He never looked away, as he let his hand wander, fingertips moving from her waist to the smooth silken flesh of her thigh, grazing her skin gently. He pulled her closer to him, their pelvises flush against one another as they swayed to the steady music that was their shared heartbeat; the heat between them warm and very safe.

 

_Ni la fama_

_Ni el dinero, han podido_

_Sigo siendo ese que da la vida_

_Por estar contigo_

 

She felt beautiful in his arms. Sexy. Enticing. And with the way he was looking at her with such intense desire, how could she not believe that she was? She trembled against him, feeling the careful rock of his lower half against her own. She couldn’t stop the blush that warmed her face. Maybe Alya was right. This was like ‘dirty dancing’ But why did it have to feel so right? Why did she feel so perfect when she was with him? She only knew that there could only be one incredible man that could make her feel this way. In her wildest dreams, this man could love her with all of his heart too. And with every touch and step, she was beginning to truly believe it.

 

_Soy el mismo_

_El que te daba su abrigo_

_El que salía contigo, escondida de tus padres_

_Te robaba cariño_

 

Quick steps and side flares felt so nature. Marinette lost the number of times her leg was around his hip. She craved his touch, the skin on her thigh burning whenever his hand wandered slowly. Wherever he went, she followed. They were lost in each other’s eyes, lapis lazuli meeting dark evergreen. This was their world, tender and perfect. All the while, they had completely forgotten the stage, the warm yellow lights, the bright flashes of the camera, and the cheers and wolf whistles. They were deaf to reality. They wanted nothing more to revel in  _this_ one.

 

_Y aunque la vida, tal vez_

_Nos haya llevado por distintos caminos_

_No somos súper humanos_

_Para controlar o cambiar el destino_

 

The stranger, gently encouraged her down, crouching low. He never let her go. She followed, easily sliding into a split. She could hardly feel the strain as she arched her back, reaching for the sky. Marinette couldn’t stop herself from smiling, her dark hair falling back. He nuzzled her nose, green eyes twinkling as he smiled along with her before bringing her back up into a quick spin.

 

_Soy aquel, el mismo de ayer_

_El que escribía sus canciones en el tren_

_Soy aquel, el que nunca se fue_

_El que pintaba tu carita en un papel_

 

With careful hands, he guided her with ease, turning her around so he could lightly nuzzle her shoulder. When they finally closed the distance, that’s when she knew. Her back flushed against the hard lines of his chest, his face buried in the crook of her neck, she knew that this was the man she would forever give her heart to. He would not control her. Instead, he would support her, guide her in every step. And she would follow. She trusted him explicitly, with her heart, secret longings, even her very soul. Lapis lazuli eyes gazed intently into smouldering evergreen and Marinette gave a shy nod.

 

_Ni la fama_

_Ni el dinero, han podido_

 

With unspoken agreement, she guided his hands towards her waist, towards the loose knot in her side skirt. And he gently untied it for her. The skirt that had once been there, fell away, falling and swinging to her side. She was finally free of the old Marinette. This was who she really was. And she wasn’t ashamed. The man that held her in his arms, loved her for it.

 

_Sigo siendo ese que da la vida_

_Por estar contigo oh oh, oh_

 

With a embarrassed smile, stepped away from him, free styling with ease bringing her arms and hands through her hair, tangling themselves in the thick waves. She didn’t feel awkward dancing in front of him anymore. He encouraged her, supported her with a teasing yet loving smile, as he matched her footwork. 

They never looked out into that golden light that bathed them. Some small voice in the back of her head told them that they should. That there was a reason to look straight ahead as they danced. Was it to show off their technicality and complexity of their footwork? She wasn’t quite sure. Only that she didn’t really care anymore. She could only see him as they moved in sync, her side train swaying with every fast step and sensual roll or shimmy of her hips and shoulders.  


 

_Soy aquel, el mismo de ayer_

_El que escribía sus canciones en el tren_

_Soy aquel, el que nunca se fue_

_El que pintaba tu carita en un papel_

 

Then Marinette suddenly found herself spinning, and the floor suddenly disappeared. Taking her from behind, his hands caught hold of her waist and she jumped. And she soared through the air, the beautiful lines of her body bending into and elegant arch, her hands reaching up past her head, as she styled her hands in a delicate hold. He lifted her so high, strong arms taught as he held her. Dark hair billowing around her face, she felt so light, as if she was soaring into golden sun rays. Breathless and free, she wasn’t afraid that she might fall, that no one would be there to catch her if she did.

He brought her back down, sliding to the side, as their hands joined, reaching for the sky together. 

But in truth she didn't want it to end. She wanted to fly. She wanted to feel that beautiful e xhilaration once more. Shy and full of hope, bright blue eyes stared up at him in childish wonder. And he couldn't help but smile with her. Sometimes she was so easy to read. Seeing her happiness was truly the most wondrous thing in the world to him, as he prepared them for their final stunt.

 

 

_Ni la fama_

_Ni el dinero, han podido_

 

Reaching up, she extended her leg, styling as she did so, the audience in awe at her flexibility but Marinette paid no heed. Stretching out completely, her right leg, balanced across his shoulder as he flipped her upside down, causing her other leg to extend forwards. Holding tight onto his hands, she brought her leg up towards her face, to create the perfect split. Suspended momentarily, it felt so easy, despite the strain in her core and legs to hold that pose. Dancing felt so natural as he easily flipped her upright once more. 

It was okay to feel like this. It was just a dance; two people that longed to be held, to feel safe, to be wanted. She felt wanted in his arms. He wanted her. And she knew. He didn’t have to say it. With ever body roll, quick step, spin or sway of their hips, she knew that he wanted her. And Marinette wanted him. She wanted him, this wonderful moment suspended in time. She wanted everything with all of her heart.

 

 

_Sigo siendo ese que da la vida_

_Por estar contigo hmm_

_Por estar contigo_

 

Finally their lips met. After an eternity of longing, they finally closed the distance. With a pounding heart, Marinette sighed into the kiss, her eyelids fluttering shut. With her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, one arm, easily supporting her weight, Adrien’s hand wandered, cradling Marinette’s beautiful face, his fingers, stroking through the soft thick strands of raven silk. The kiss was soft and tender. Lips gently merging together as noses rubbed affectionately. The act seemed chaste and innocent, a sharp contrast to the openly sensual and passionate need to be close and adored by one another. It was enough. She loved him. She really did.

The sound of a thunderous clap broke them. It was absolutely deafening. Marinette pulled away in surprise. And she felt her cheeks warm and turn bright red. 

_Oh. Right. The ball … How could I forget that?_

She couldn’t hear him laugh. But even with his mask on the relief and happiness in his face was evident. He gently pulled away from their somewhat open affection for one another, holding her hand tightly as they both turned to face the audience. 

Marinette couldn’t quite see, who was who. It was too bright. But the glare no longer frightened her.

With an embarrassed flush, she gave a shy smile. She bowed gracefully before nodding to her performance partner as was customary. She expressed her gratitude towards him with an elegant curtsey. Sapphire eyes went dark lapis lazuli. It was a look that only he could decipher, as she silently thanked him for making her most secret of dreams, a beautiful and tender reality. 

His evergreen eyes smouldered as he gave her a dazzling smile, bowing low, kissing the back of her hand gently.

Cheers and screams roared in her ears, cameras brightly flashed before her eyes, as she blushed once more. With a final bow in unison, Adrien moved to lightly placing a hand at Marinette’s waist before he took one of her hands, walking of the stage together.

They were met by Jaxx and Lance, who were full of smiles.

“That was incredible! Oh my god guys! That was so good! There was so much chemistry between the two of you. Everyone loved it!”

“Really? I wasn’t paying attention.” Adrien said nonchalant, finally taking off his mask. He turned to Marinette and she looked away shyly, her heart still pounding in her chest with what had transpired between the two of them. It was just Adrien again. Not the seductive stranger clad in black from her fantasies. Just Adrien. Still, it was a little overwhelming. Knowing that still made sent her heart fluttering.

What had meant to be private, shared only between them, an intimate connection between them had just been blatantly exposed to thousands of people. Yet Marinette couldn’t find it in her heart to care.

“We could tell. I’m surprised the two of you didn’t start taking each other’s clothes off. You took Marinette’s skirt off; why stop there Rousseau?” Lance teased.

“Oh shove it.” Adrien said, with a roll of his eyes but he couldn’t stop himself from smiling along with him. 

“And you Miss Dupain-Cheng, shaking your ass in front of him and letting Adrien take your hair out. What’s with that? One would think you were encouraging Adrien to jump your bones.”

Marinette could feel her cheeks go up in flames.

_You have no idea._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AS PROMISED!!!! <3 Sorry for any grammatical errors. I tried ...


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